


Saturn

by Flutterbye_5, HeartxOfxStone



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: A Whole Load of Feels, Adopted Child, Alternate Universe - Human, Blow Jobs, Cancer, Derek Hale & Stiles Stilinski are the Same Age, Derek Has a Crush on Stiles, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Falling In Love, First Kiss, Hospitalization, Human Derek Hale, Huntington's Disease, Juvenile Huntington's Disease, M/M, Panic Attacks, Sign Language, Stiles Stilinski Has Cancer, Tattoos, Teenagers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-24
Updated: 2017-08-21
Packaged: 2018-06-04 02:30:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 11
Words: 30,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6637378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Flutterbye_5/pseuds/Flutterbye_5, https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeartxOfxStone/pseuds/HeartxOfxStone
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><em> Derek and Mrs. Hale,</em><br/>Here are some sites that can help you further understand Derek’s disease. Juvenile Huntington’s Disease is a hard thing to live with, but Derek is a strong young man. I will do whatever is in my power to help him live as normally as possible for as long as possible.<br/>-Dr. Jane Burns</p><p>Below were a few scribbles of websites, <em> .edu, .gov </em>, the list went on. </p><p>“Holy shit,” Stiles breathed, placing the sheet on the table. He cleared his throat, tasting the slight coppery taste of blood on his tongue. “I don’t really know if this will make you feel any better, but I’m Stiles, like Stilinski as in Sheriff Stilinski’s son. I graduated with you, even though you probably have absolutely no clue who I am, but, um what was my point? Oh,” Stiles exclaimed with a sad smile on his face, which Derek could finally see.</p><p>“I, well I have cancer. A tumor in my throat actually. Leave it to me to get the condition that nearly no one my age gets.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. This Temporary Life

**Author's Note:**

> We are not medical professionals and understand that there is always the chance for misrepresentations in treatment and symptoms exhibited. We did our best to make the work as accurate as we could given our resources. 
> 
> We've pre-written about 8 more chapters as of right now so they should be coming out weekly!
> 
> We'll get through this one together, friends.

" -- Juvenile Huntington's Disease." 

•••

_“Mom!”_

_“What? What is it?” Talia ran in, plastic gloves and soap still on her hands, the water from the dishes dripping on the hardwood floors. Her tone was frantic and worried. Derek’s call had been panic-stricken, his voice filled with confusion and mild fear._

_“I can’t move my legs,” he grunted, frowning._

_Stepping further into the room, Talia frowned._

_“What do you mean you can’t move your legs?”_

_Derek rolled his eyes._

_“I can move them… kind of. I just… I can’t get out of bed.”_

_His tone melted from aggravated to fearful. His legs shifted in the bed as he futilely tried to kick them over the edge. An aching pain moved through his muscles as they slowly bent._

_“They’re just… really, really stiff.”_

•••

“What?” Derek’s head snapped up. If he were being honest, he was trying to ignore the woman. 

“You have Juvenile Huntington’s Disease, Derek,” Doctor Burns stated mournfully, doing her best to look him in the eye.

“What… what does that mean? What is it?” he asked tentatively, wringing his fingers together. 

•••

_Derek was standing at the board, solving some god awful math equation. He wasn’t on top of his game today so it was taking him longer than usual. He was uncomfortable; the lights felt too bright and his hands were clammy. The feelings weren’t new, but they were never so intense. His body flooded with tension, and the pen dropped from his hand as his eyes rolled up into the back of his head._

_There was the soft press of a hand at his waist to turn him around, that, he could remember. The hand moved to his face, paired with another one at the back of his head, gently trying to keep him still. The last thing Derek felt was the person carding a shaking hand through his hair, and the sound of a soothing voice in his ear._

_He woke up in a starched white hospital bed with his mother and Dr. Burns standing over him._

_"I want to see him every three weeks," the doctor told Talia, "and he's going to be put on a new diet."_

_She handed her a paper with all safe foods for Derek to eat, and some to never consider._

_His eyes widened out of fear. What was happening to him?_

•••

He knew that his father had had Huntington’s before he had died, but it was such a long time ago, and he was so young. He never really had the heart or the strength to find out exactly _how_ the disease caused his father to die. 

“Well,” she began, swallowing. “ It is an early-onset form of Huntington’s Disease. It’s commonly inherited from the father and very rare. It’s a progressive disorder that causes the breakdown of cells in certain areas of the brain.”

Derek thought back to all the problems he’s been having. 

“I’d like to take action immediately.” 

“So I can go in remission?” Derek asked hopefully.

Doctor Burns’ eyes fell to the ground. 

“There is no cure. Treatment focuses on reducing symptoms, preventing complications, and providing support and assistance.” 

Derek spared a glance at his mother who remained silent as the doctor spoke. He knew she had been hoping this wouldn't be the outcome of long months of visits and various testings, but hope couldn't change anything.

Talia Hale had silent tears streaming down her face and her eyes were stuck on Derek's own. The expression she held on her face was one he had only seen once, thirteen years ago when they laid his father to rest. The look of complete devastation.

Dr. Burn's voice broke their intense gaze, both Hales looking towards her. 

"I'm going to start you on an anti-convulsant for the seizures. I recommend physical therapy for the stiffness and muscle control. I’m prescribing _clonazepam_ , which is both a muscle relaxant for rigidity and an anti-convulsant. Be warned, it is a sedative. I’m going to prescribe a low dose. If we have to, I’ll prescribe more. I’d like to start you off on as little medication as possible. If the symptoms become too intense, _let me know_ , and I’ll assign the necessary medications. The diet is working well, and has been for quite some time, but we're not taking any chances." 

As she spoke she wrote out two separate prescriptions and handed them to Talia.

“I want Derek to live as normally as possible for as long as possible, and I’m sure you do too. We’ll start off slow, but you may experience more symptoms like difficulty sleeping and extreme rigidity - to the point where we may need to up the medication. You may oversleep instead of becoming an insomniac. Chorea, dystonia, impaired posture and balance, difficulty speaking and swallowing; these are only the physical effects that you may encounter. There are also cognitive symptoms as well. You may experience difficulty planning, organizing, and prioritizing tasks, inability to start a task or conversation, getting stuck on a certain thought or task, perception difficulties, a difficulty focusing on tasks for extended periods of time, a slowness in processing thought, and a difficulty learning new things." 

Derek's eyes widened at the lengthy list as the doctor slowly went through possible problems coming in his future, however long or short that may be. He took in a long, slow breath through his nose in an attempt to calm himself down.

“Then there are the psychiatric effects. You may develop a bipolar disorder, depression, mania, you may become anxious, apathetic, or inappropriately sexual or suggestive in your behavior. I know this seems like a lot to take in, but keep in mind that you will not experience all of these symptoms. Some people experience more than others, but try not to get caught up in what could happen and focus on what we can do to lessen the symptoms you have now.” 

“Can you write that down?” he asked weakly, staring, horrified, at the floor. 

Doctor Burns smiled understandingly. 

“Of course. I’ll give you a few websites that are good for helping patients understand their diagnoses. I have faith in you, Derek. We will work with this.” 

She squeezed Derek's shoulder and left the room to write up a few sites for him and was back in only a few minutes, which he couldn't be more grateful for. He didn't know how to even begin to say anything to his mom. He was mad at himself for putting her through this again when no one should ever have to watch a loved one suffer such a fate. 

As they walked out, references and prescriptions in hand, Talia grabbed his hand and ran her thumb across the back of it, intertwining their fingers. She looked to him with a watery smile and choked back a sob.

Derek snapped his head up to look at her as they both bent into her car. He couldn't find any response good enough. Even though she said it with a smile it just gutted him. 

"Mom," he breathed, voice cracking harshly before he fell into a fit of body wracking tears. He was gasping for breath and made small whining noises in the back of his throat as his mother smoothed a warm hand on his back, under his shirt, and rubbed a circular pattern into the skin.

“It’ll be okay,” she attempted to soothe, her voice cracking on the lie. 

“That’s…” he gasped, “that’s such a fucking _lie_.” 

Talia’s grip tightened on him in shame. 

“I just- I just can’t lose my baby. I can’t lose my son,” she whispered brokenly, leaning her head on his. 

“I’m already on my way, Mom. You’ll lose me either way,” his voice broke. “No matter what you, or I do, I'll die. It’s better to accept it sooner rather than later."

Derek couldn’t help his being harsh. He was scared, but he thought it might be worse if his mom knew that. It could've been minutes or hours that they spent wrapped up in each other in that dark hospital parking lot. Neither mother nor son was put together enough to move. There wasn't much left to say.

•••

Derek scoured the library walls for books on both Juvenile and traditional Huntington's Disease. He recognized that they weren't the same, and that there were some notable differences, but he had added them to the list of symptoms and conditions that he had written up using the sites Dr. Burns gave him.

He sat at a table in the back corner and spread the four books he found, as well as his list, in front of him. It was all _so_ much. It had only been a few days since his official diagnosis, and he hasn’t felt anything out of the ordinary, but he couldn’t help his constant state of anxiety. Derek stared down at his list, shoulders slumped, swallowing deeply. _Tremors, Apathy, OCD, Mania, Dystonia._ He was terrified, to put it simply. Accepting death, even though he tried to play it off to his mom, seemed impossible.

Feeling his breath come shorter, he laid his head on the table and his shoulders started to shake. Derek’s arms came around his body, almost like he was trying to hold himself together. His fingers felt so tight, like they were cramping up, and that just made everything worse. Of course he would have some sort of episode in public, because he definitely needed more to worry about.

He barely even noticed when the warm pressure of a careful hand landed on his shoulder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title is the song [This Temporary Life](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xccNss0YGzI) by Death Cab for Cutie


	2. Life is Short

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Enter Stiles!! It's a slow start but things should be picking up soon. See y'all next week with an update!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a reminder, we are not medical professionals, but we try our best to be accurate.

_"What's the cause of your visit today?" Doctor Haynes asked good-naturedly, smiling at the young boy in front of her._

_"I spit blood in Mr. Harris' face," Stiles deadpanned, leveling his gaze with the woman before him._

_Dr. Haynes' eyebrows hit her hairline._

_"Could you be a bit more descriptive?" she joked, attempting to hide the concern creeping up on her. The last thing Stiles needed was to be scared._

_"My blood went from my mouth to his face how much more descriptive can I get?" he snarked. "The look he had was kind of hilarious."_

_The pediatrician sighed. Difficult patients, no matter how many came through the office, were trying._

_"How did the blood leave your mouth?"_

_Stiles thought for a second._

_"I coughed and didn't cover my mouth. Damage was done."_

Jesus, _the woman thought, rubbing the place between her brows._

_Reaching for a tongue compressor from the jar, Dr. Haynes cleared her throat._

_"Say 'aaah'."_

_Humming thoughtfully, she wrote a few notes on her clipboard._

_"Would you mind if I brought your father back in?" she asked, trying to stop the frown from reaching her face._

_Stiles shrugged._

_Sheriff Stilinski entered the office cautiously, worry clear on his face._

_"Mr. Stilinski," she greeted warmly. "I have a few concerns. I'd like to run a few tests."_

•••

Stiles ran a hand over his fresh buzzcut. Lydia had shaved his head the night before when he had shown up at her door with his electric razor in hand and demanded that she took all the hair off. He thought about how his mom used to just rub his head, dusted with peach fuzz, when he had shaved it for her while she was sick. 

Before he could stop himself he faintly wondered if he would see her any time soon. He could feel himself falling to the thought and quickly resumed stacking books back onto the library shelves. He filled his mind with all of the books' call numbers as he searched for their designated places.

Dragging his feet, he pulled the cart to the medical section. Placing the books back on the shelves, Stiles hummed to himself. He never really could stand silence. 

Eyes skimming over the shelves, he caught sight of a hunched figure. Stiles could tell it was a man, and he was shaking. 

•••

_Stiles cleared his throat for the thousandth time that hour. He'd been doing that a lot._

_He was getting sick of all the tests. Throat scan, MRI, osteopathic approaches, everything under the sun. He decided medical tests sucked worse than school tests._

_Kicking his feet back and forth on the observation table, Stiles waited for Dr. Haynes and his dad to come back in. She had looked worried when she had pulled his dad into her office, asking him to wait in the cold as hell room with his ass crunching unpleasantly on the paper rolled out on the table, a breeze going down his spine._

Goddamn assless gown, _he growled to himself, frowning deeply._

_The door creaked open, and his father came in, Dr. Haynes following closely behind._

_"Stiles," his father began, and instantly Stiles knew something was wrong. "It seems... that there's a problem."_

_Stiles rolled his eyes._

_"Well yeah, I'm not coughing up blood because my body's in tip-top-shape," he sassed, leaning back on his hands._

_"Stiles, this is serious," the Sheriff admonished._

_Taking a step forward, Dr. Haynes placed a kind hand on Stiles' shoulder._

_"Stiles, you're sick," she began. Stiles opened his mouth to say something sarcastic, but she cut him off. "There's a cancerous tumor growing on your vocal cords. You know where those are?"_

_"Duh," he breathed weakly, desperately trying to maintain his relaxed demeanor._

_"As of now, we're going to try and put you through a chemo program. Hopefully it'll work. If not there are other treatment options, but we'll get into those later. For now, go home. Have some ice cream. Rest. It's late. I'll see you back in the office tomorrow to talk further."_

_Dazedly, Stiles followed his father out of the office, down the stairs, to the car and all the way home. He didn't say a single word._

_Later, when his dad was settled in bed, already half asleep, he snuck into the room and climbed in on his mother's side. The pillow was cold beneath his cheek._

_"Dad?" he whispered softly._

_Shifting, the Sheriff turned to his son._

_"Yeah?"_

_"I have cancer," Stiles' voice broke in the darkness of the room._

_"You have cancer."_

••• 

It never really was Stiles’ forte to mind his own business, but in his gut he felt that this was one time that trait would come in handy. If there was anything he knew how to handle, it was a panic attack. 

Stiles approached the man slowly, even though he couldn’t have seen him with his back turned and placed a hesitant, yet firm, hand on his shoulder. He felt a fleeting tense of the figure’s muscles before he relaxed underneath the touch. Stiles kneaded the heel of his hand into the back of the man’s trembling shoulder and slid it gently to the center of his back, drawing circular patterns into the soft cotton of his shirt.

He squatted down next to the stranger and began to count in a steady rhythm.

“In, 2, 3, 4. Out, 2, 3, 4,” he repeated this over and over, faltering once when he noticed that the man he was helping was in fact Derek Hale, who was not a man at all but an 18 year old like himself.

He thought back to when they were both still in high school, when Derek had a seizure in his trig class. Stiles had never seen anything like that happen before, unfortunately, as he looked back on the moment, neither had the teacher. He also remembered, as he felt the tips of his ears flushing red, combing his fingers through Derek’s thick, dark hair and attempting to calm him down while the paramedics were on their way. 

That felt like a lifetime ago, and seeing Derek again after not having their paths cross, even though Stiles was sure Derek remained completely unaware of Stiles’ existence, brought back all of those _feelings_ he had for the mysterious boy. He was pulled from his overactive train of thought when he heard a quiet, wavering voice.

“C- can you help me? My hands, they hurt so much.”

Derek lifted his head to see who had taken the time to help him, but was met with a fuzzy blur, tears clouding his vision. He could finally get a decent breath of fresh air in his lungs and his heart rate was taking its time returning to its normal beat.

Stiles picked up one of Derek’s hands in both of his own, seeing the white skin of clenched knuckles. He cupped the hand with his and used his thumbs to massage just under the joint of Derek’s knuckle for each finger until he could get the hand open enough to massage the palm as well. When he finished with the first hand he moved onto the next one without anything being said.

They sat in silence for a few moments, nothing but the soft kneading of Stiles’ hands on Derek’s between them. Then, quietly, Derek spoke. 

“I’m going to die,” he whispered brokenly, curling in further on himself. 

“Hey now,” Stiles chided softly. “What makes you say that?” 

Derek let out a broken sob. 

“I’m going to die and there’s nothing I can do about it. My mother is going to lose her son, my brothers and sisters a sibling, how the fucking hell is that fair?” 

Stiles felt panic sear through him. He had been relatively calm, but now, he was becoming unsure. Glancing at the table, he saw piles upon piles of medical books. 

_Jesus Christ_ , he thought. His eyes caught sight of a paper that had fallen to the ground. Reaching over with one hand, he grabbed it. 

_Derek and Mrs. Hale,_

_Here are some sites that can help you further understand Derek’s disease. Juvenile Huntington’s Disease is a hard thing to live with, but Derek is strong young man. I will do whatever is in my power to help him live as normally as possible for as long as possible._

_~Dr. Jane Burns_

Below were a few scribbles of websites, _.edu, .gov_ , the list went on. 

“Holy shit,” Stiles breathed, placing the sheet on the table. He cleared his throat, tasting the slight coppery taste of blood on his tongue. “I don’t really know if this will make you feel any better, but I’m Stiles, like Stilinski as in Sheriff Stilinski’s son. I graduated with you, even though you probably have absolutely no clue who I am, but, um what was my point? Oh,” Stiles exclaimed with a sad smile on his face, which Derek could finally see.

“I, well I have cancer. A tumor in my throat actually. Leave it to me to get the condition that nearly no one my age gets.”

Derek couldn’t help but gape at the boy. He remembered seeing Stiles in the halls of Beacon Hills High, but had never actually talked to him. Derek was suddenly grateful to have looked back down at his table, face heating up. He remembered _plenty_ about Stiles, from his upturned nose, to the moles that danced across his skin. Cancer. What were the chances of Derek finding someone his age battling some horrific disease at the same time as himself?

“Well if it helps _you_ at all, only,” Derek paused as he skimmed over a page of one of his opened books, “five to ten percent of Huntington’s cases are juvenile so.”

“Well, it looks like you and I can be outliers together,” Stiles chuckled harshly, and then coughed. 

Derek winced at how painful it sounded. He watched as Stiles wiped his hand on his jeans, leaving small rust streaks. His jeans were a light blue, and Derek could see blood mark after blood mark faded in the fabric. It seemed Stiles had blood on his hands often. 

Following Derek’s gaze, Stiles winced. 

“Sorry,” he said sheepishly. “I should really invest in darker wash jeans.” 

Derek shrugged. 

“Can’t choose what kills you.” 

Stiles snorted. 

“Ain’t that true,” he smiled sadly. 

Derek’s phone buzzed on the table. Guessing that it was his mother, he packed the books he had checked out into his backpack and folded both the doctor’s note, and his own list, into his pocket. He turned to Stiles as he opened the message.

Mom: _I’m outside the door, take your time sweetie_

“I have t- I have to go. My mom’s outside," he flushed from unnecessary embarrassment, "Not that I couldn't drive myself. I mean, they said I should live as normally as possible, and I don’t blame my mom for doing it, but the first thing she did was take my car keys.” Derek looked bashfully at Stiles through his lashes, toeing at the green carpeting of the library floor.

“Thank you, for helping me with the breathing, and uh my hands,” Derek mumbled and practically sprinted out of the library, the image of wide honey colored eyes in his head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title is the song [Life is Short](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jSfVi7TThsQ) by Butterfly Boucher


	3. Save You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Introducing Charlie! I hope y'all come to love her as much as we do.

Stiles watched, brain still trying to catch up with all of what he had just witnessed and done, as Derek fled from his sight.

_Holy shit he’s cute ,_ Stiles thought to himself, staring dazedly at where Derek had left the library. _Hot I could handle, but_ cute _too?_

Stiles had a huge grin on his face at the thought of a flustered Derek. He wondered if his blush carried down onto the skin beneath his light stubble as he did a happy dance which had a really good chance of looking spastic. He shook his head as if to cast away the thought and went to grab some more books to reshelve, taking out his phone while he walked, calling Lydia.

As soon as she picked up the phone he rushed out, "He's _cute_ Lydia."

"What did we say about speaking in full sentences Stiles, seriously we had this conversation for like the tenth time last week. And don't whine it's not attractive. Now," she said with a pregnant pause, "who's cute?"

"Derek Hale," Stiles squeaked out, already regretting this conversation because he knew what Lydia would say about his ridiculous long term crush. It wasn't like he gushed about Derek through the last two years of high school or anything, well, maybe a little, but who doesn't like to talk about hot guys? 

He heard a lengthy groan from the other end of the line, "Are you kidding me? Stiles I thought this was important, like moving on from your hopeless crush important. I-"

"No, Lydia, you don't understand I just interacted with him for like almost an hour before he left. He blushed when he told me his mom came to pick him up Lydia, _blushed_."

Stiles paused in his tirade, chest slightly heaving. 

“Stiles, calm down before you hurt yourself,” Lydia chastised, tutting softly. “Start from the beginning.” 

Biting his lip, Stiles tried to stop a grin from appearing on his face. 

“So I was stacking books like normal right? And then all of a sudden I see this guy and he’s shaking and acting generally distressed in a corner and I’m like _hey_ that looks like a panic attack I know how to deal with those - you know I know how to handle those -” 

“Yes, Stiles, I do,” Lydia stated flatly. 

“Anyway,” Stiles continued as if she hadn’t said anything, letting out a wrenching cough. He wheezed for a moment, unable to carry on. Blood dribbled down his chin, and he wiped it away. He then cleared his throat and went on as if nothing had happened. Lydia ignored it.

“So I go over to this guy, being the good samaritan that I am, and try to help him and then he turns to face me and lo and behold it’s Derek freaking Hale in the flesh having a panic attack right on my lap. So I help him through it because I’m a good person, of course I am, and then he says something about his _hands_ and Lydia I’m not one to divulge someone’s personal information but he’s… he’s sick like me except I feel like it’s ten times worse, and his hands _hurt_ I guess and God, Lydia, I didn’t know what to do so I just kind of _massaged them_ and he was so thankful, Jesus, he has Juvenile Huntington’s Disease! What the fuck kind of twisted fate is that Jesus shit if I could punch a guy it’d be the guy in the clouds because what the fuck?” 

“Get on with it,” Lydia sounded like she was tiring of Stiles’ tale. 

“So we started talking and it was kind of nice and then his phone rang and it was his _mom_. He was so embarrassed; he blushed and everything! It was literally the cutest thing I’ve ever seen in my life, and I look in a mirror every morning when I brush my teeth.”

Lydia heaved a deep sigh. Stiles’ life was one tragedy after another, wasn’t it? She thought back to everything that had happened to her dear friend. First his mother died from dementia, then his father had his heart attack, then he was diagnosed with stage three _laryngeal cancer_ of all things. Now the man he had been practically in love with for the past two years was going to die slowly and painfully. 

Life truly was a cruel beast. 

"Stiles," she started, "are you sure that's something you want to go through again? 

"I honestly don't think I can stop myself. Well, I mean, Isaac got taken away by Child Protection Services right before graduation, Erica's been in the hospital long term since her epilepsy has gotten worse, and Boyd, I guess he's around but his Grandma isn't doing well," he cut himself off. They sounded like excuses, but they were only the truth. Derek's friends simply couldn't be around anymore and no one deserved to die alone.

"Well as long as you know what you're getting into there's nothing I can do to stop you." 

Stiles grabbed at his throat with his free hand, "I really, I really think this is worth it. I think _he's_ worth it."

Lydia gave a sound of approval before abruptly hanging up on him.

"Well alright then Lydia love you too," Stiles muttered, shoving his phone in his pocket and getting back to work.

He distractedly shelved and sorted books for around two more hours before punching out and climbing into the jeep. The sheriff was off that night so that meant Stiles would be cooking dinner, which he didn't find to be much of a hassle. 

On his short drive home he thought about Derek. Lydia was right, he had spent too many a night waxing poetic about the boy, from his cheekbones and stubble, to his sparkling eyes. Stiles had been witness to Derek's wicked smirk but had never seen him really smile. Today would be the day that Stiles vowed to make Derek Hale have something to smile about everyday for whatever amount of time he had left.

•••

When Derek got in the car he let out a deep breath, his face on fire with a fierce blush. _Stiles_. Derek could barely believe the guy was actually there when he had begun to calmly speak.

"The sheriff's son is sick too," he whispered, wide eyed and looking straight ahead. It was hard to grasp that Stiles was anything but healthy. "It's cancer."

“Oh, sweetie,” Talia sighed remorsefully, looking sympathetically at her son. The sheriff’s son was a small sunspot in Derek’s life, even if he didn’t know it. She remembered foolish story after foolish story about the strange and sometimes funny things that the boy did in class. 

Derek tried to shrug nonchalantly. 

“What can you do?” he frowned, unable to fully keep his anger and sorrow hidden. Death liked to murder the young. 

It hit him then, that Stiles was only eighteen. That _he_ was eighteen. Derek wasn't even old enough to drink, or buy a pack of cigarettes. Just a few months prior, he finally was able to buy a lighter, get a tattoo, and now he was going to die a slow, painful death _young_. 

“It’s not fair,” he grunted, glaring gloomily out the window. “Life fucking sucks.” 

“Language,” Talia chided, but the scolding held no heat. 

Derek sighed harshly. He _wanted_ his mother to scold him, to treat him with some semblance of normalcy. Now, he knows, she will no longer treat him as she used to, just as when he started having seizures, but like he was _sick_. 

After that the car ride home was filled with an awkward silence, the space between them left with many words unsaid. Derek’s mood got gloomier and gloomier, and a permanent frown became etched on his face. 

When they pulled into the driveway of the Hale house, Derek became glad that it was only the mid-afternoon. The longer he got to put off telling everybody, the better. 

It had been three days since Derek had went to the doctor and he only people he told about the disease, aside from his mom who was with him at the time, were Laura and Peter. Well now Stiles knew as well but Derek didn't think that would matter much at all. 

He didn't really want to tell everyone, but he knew he would have to. It would only be a matter of time before the symptoms would become too noticeable to brush off. It was just, between his mom taking his car and letting him off the hook with swearing he knew that his entire life would change when he told his family. They wouldn't let him live the same and that was the worst thing he could imagine.

He trudged up the stairs and plowed into Laura's room, calling out her name nice and loud as he opened the door. She was sitting with her legs out in front of her, laptop sitting on her thighs, and Peter at her feet painting her toenails.

"Hey D-bear what's up?" She grinned, before noticing the confused expression on his face. "Oh, he lost a bet."

He tried to pin her with a glare, but Peter was throwing him for a loop. "Wha- You know what? I don't want to know." 

Laura'd been using that name for him since he could remember and he's never really been a fan of it, but it makes her happy so he usually let her get away with it. He climbed onto the free space of the bed and sat with his legs crossed next to Laura.

He swallowed deeply, and looked up at her wide eyed trying to forget the sight in front of him, "I know who it is." 

Laura's face lit up. "Really?" She asked, beaming. 

When Derek had told Laura that all he remembered from when he had the seizure was fingers running through his hair, it had led to Laura and Peter coming up with this grand idea that whoever that person was, was meant to be with him. Every once in a while she would bounce up to him in the house and ask if he had found _them_ yet. Peter would go a different route and flat out tackle him onto the floor and demand to know if he figured it out, but he didn't really like to think much about how invested his uncle was in it.

"Oh my god Derek, is it a girl? Guy? Wait! Is it a teacher? Whoa I never thought of that before. I swear if that Harris guy touched you for even a second I'll rip off his fingers one by o-"

"I bet it's Finstock," Peter said with a wicked grin, and teasing eyes to match.

"Laura! God please," Derek exclaimed, his ears turning pink, "it's not Harris. And ew, Peter, no."

Laura sat, knee bouncing and shaking the whole bed with it. Her energy was running so high it was ridiculous. She was brimming with curiosity.

"Okay okay," she placated, "that was a bit of a stretch, but seriously, who is it?"

"It's the sheriff's son, Stiles. He's my age, and um yeah, it's him." Derek couldn't hold her gaze, getting increasingly more embarrassed. 

"I knew it!" Peter boomed. Derek had almost forgotten he was there, he was silent for, wow, 47 seconds. "I knew it would be him. Pay up," he said, staring Laura down.

"Ugh not now Peter." Laura said, rolling her eyes at him. "That's the one that did all that crazy stuff in high school right? You used to come home with the best stories about him," she said facetiously, causing Derek to blush deeper. "Oh hey well at least you have a good chance, remember that rumor that he hooked up with Danny?"

"How do y- Why the fuck do you even know this stuff? You're twenty-three!"

"I'm thirty-one, what does that mean?" Peter added. He remained ignored, neither sibling had the patience for him.

She opened her mouth, pointing a finger at him, but didn't seem to have anything to say to him following that statement. Laura cleared her throat, "Anyway," she stretched the word, ignoring Derek's question, "how are you sure it's him though?"

Derek thought he couldn't blush any harder, but he was wrong. At this point he had to look ridiculous, like a tomato or something. 

"I just know, okay?" he bit out. For some reason he didn't really want Peter, or Laura for that matter, to know about how Stiles helped him yet again in the library today. He wanted that to be between him and Stiles, it wasn't much, but it meant a lot.

•••

Dreams plagued Derek that night. The sharp silence that had been left in the wake of the news of his sickness haunted him. No one had known what to say. Little Charlie had been the first to speak, looking to Derek mournfully. 

_”Dee-dee?”_ she had whispered tearfully. _”You sick?”_

And how the hell was Derek supposed to respond to that? 

_”Yeah,”_ his voice had cracked. _”But that’s okay, because I’m going to try my hardest to get better. And together we can do anything, right Charlie?”_

_”Right!”_

Even with the lie Derek had told, her smile could have powered the entire room.

_”Other kids have Daddies but I have Dee-dee!”_

Derek felt a tear run down his cheek. _Jesus._ He was going to leave Charlie all alone. No longer would she have him to drag into class on the days when most kids brought their fathers. She would have to bring Peter instead. By the time she turned ten, he’d be nothing but a name in her head. You forget a lot, when you’re four. 

He thought about the day he first met her. It had been instant, the connection between the two of them. It had only been a couple of days after he had his first seizure, they had been planning to bring her home then for months. Talia had come to visit Derek in the hospital because they decided to keep him a few days for observation and brought Charlotte with her. The little girl had clung to his chest as soon as his mom passed her over. She had left the pair alone for a few hours which he spent whispering little things in her ear, twirling his fingers through her little brown curls, and just listening to her babble on in a two year old's version of English.

At home where you saw Derek, Charlie would shortly follow, if she wasn't already in his arms. They were inseparable. For Derek's eighteenth birthday he gained custody of Charlie from his mother, signing the papers, and the rest was history.

Derek thought about all the kids. Ethan, Aiden, Cora. He huffed slightly. Cora would surely protest to being called a _kid_. 

Sure there was Peter who had Ethan and Aiden as his priority being their mom left after they were born, but Derek had really taken up the role of man of the house since Charlie had entered the family. Derek has her as his own, and his other siblings were easily taken under his wing.

He just prayed that they would survive without him.


	4. Young Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charlie and Derek head to see their favorite volunteer working at the library ;)  
> So I love little kids, Derek loves little kids, it's a good time. 
> 
> Oh, also the chapter title is the song Young Love by Eli Lieb

"Do you think you could help us?" Derek asked, unusually timid, holding Charlie on his hip. He had come back to the library the following day, Laura having dropped him off. He realized too late, that he didn't have a clue where the children's books were. He was relieved to have seen Stiles, but also seemingly terrified.

Stiles looked up at the pair, not expecting to be met with Derek holding the most adorable toddler he had ever seen. _Oh good lord it gets worse,_ he thought. There should be major preparation required before witnessing Derek Hale with a child. It was almost too much.

"Oh um," he stammered, "yes, sure what do you need?" Stiles was still trying to keep himself composed.

"Very Little Red Riding Hood," Charlie peeped, from her perch on Derek's side. Derek couldn't stop a small smile from creeping up onto his face and it seemed that Stiles couldn't either. 

Derek chuckled and Stiles had to suppress a shiver at the deep, throaty sound. 

"We've been to every bookstore in town and no one has it. It's the newest, and only version of little red riding hood she has never read," Derek paused, "or rather had read to her. So this is our last attempt." 

"Yeah come with me let's take a look," Stiles suggested, swallowing down his nerves. "So who's this little munchkin?"

"Oh," Derek murmured, pressing a kiss to the girl's forehead. "This is my baby," he said with pure happiness. "Her name's Charlotte, but her _friends_ call her-"

"Charlie! And I'm not a baby Dee-dee," she interjected with a pout, patting his chest. Derek flushed at the nickname, not expecting her to really talk much.

“Dee-dee?” Stiles asked incredulously, eyes wide. _This is too much, I can’t handle it!_

Derek blushed deeper, ducking his head a bit. 

“Yeah,” he muttered, peeking shyly through his lashes. “She couldn’t really get her mouth around my name and then it just kind of stuck.”

Stiles beamed. 

“One _Very Little Red Riding Hood_ coming up!” he coughed brutally, a hand coming up to cover his mouth. Wiping his hand on his jeans, he winked at Charlie and smirked. “Dee-dee sure is a good big brother, trying so hard to find your book for you. He’s a real knight in shining armour!” 

Charlie matched his smile. 

“Sure is!” she said toothily, looking slyly at Derek. “Cute, too, dontcha think?” 

It was Stiles’ turn to blush, looking hastily at the bookshelves. Scanning the colorful spines of the books he let out an “aha!” sound. Reaching up, he pulled a book off the shelf. 

“Here we go!” he exclaimed, clearing his throat. He smiled brightly at the little girl. 

Handing the book to her, Stiles cast a glance at Derek. He saw that he was shifting Charlie around, and looked a little uncomfortable. Stiles held out his arms, "C'mere sweetie," he said, plucking the giggly girl out of Derek's arms. "How about you run over to the kiddie area and take a look around? I just have to ask Derek a few things."

The girl looked at Stiles, void of expression, and contemplated what he had asked of her before bouncing on her toes and running away, over to some other kids around her age. "Well that was a lot easier than I thought it would be."

"It might have something to do with the fact that I told her I was sick last night," Derek murmured. It was hard to think about, putting her through this. 

Stiles ran his eyes over Derek's form. He still looked unbelievably uncomfortable, and then it clicked. Stiles had, without any form of regret, spent quite a few hours researching the hell out of Juvenile Huntington's disease and remembered that rigidity was really common. He thought about how Derek's hands were clenched to the point of notable pain.

"Where is it this time?" Stiles asked softly, "the stiffness."

"It's my back. I guess I can't hold her for as long as I used to." Derek's face fell. He wanted his girl to have the same Dee for as long as possible but that was already changing so soon. "It's nothing though, you don't have to do anything. It was really kind of you yesterday." Derek whispered, that damned blush flooding his cheeks again.

"No, Derek it's fine. I, uh, I want to help. I want to help you." Stiles' voice was full of emotion that Derek couldn't quite decipher, and he watched as the boy walked around him and hesitantly placed his hands on his waist. Derek could instantly feel his body wanting to react to Stiles' touch, wanting to relax under lithe fingers, but it simply wasn't able to. 

Stiles added deep pressure where his thumbs rested on Derek's lower back, and he could feel instant relief. He worked the tight muscles, straying slightly up and slightly down to make sure he didn’t miss any painful areas. When his fingers accidentally brushed Derek's waistband, Derek bit down on his bottom lip repressing a low moan. His eyes had fluttered shut and he tried desperately to not get hard in the middle of the public library.

Slowly Stiles's thumbs came to a stop, and his hands lightly moved up and down Derek's sides. "Better?" he breathed, feeling a heavy weight in the air. Derek moved to rest his hands at his waist, placing them over Stiles' own and squeezing slightly.

"Yes," Derek mumbled, "Thank you." He pulled away, and without looking at Stiles, not trusting that he could, he crossed to where Charlie was hunched over her book. Stiles watched, standing frozen, as he scooped her up and headed towards the exit. He didn’t miss when Derek spared a quick glance in his direction, a near invisible smile gracing his face.

•••

Stiles hadn't seen Derek in four days. Well, Derek hadn't been to the library in four days, but still, Stiles hadn't seen Derek in four days. Stiles also wasn't going to see him today since it was his day off. It was stupid, Stiles felt, that he was worried about this guy that he'd really only interacted with twice. It was stupid, but he couldn't help it.

He was at the hospital to get looked over and set up his treatment schedule. God, it was hard to believe that chemo was most definitely in his future. Stiles sat on the bed he was directed to and waited for his doctor to show up. The sheriff wasn't with him and the silence was nearly unbearable.

Dr. Haynes entered the room with a knock.

"Stiles," she greeted warmly. "It's good to see you again."

"Back atcha, Doc," Stiles grinned lazily, leaning back on his palms. 

Dr. Haynes resisted the urge to roll her eyes. 

"I know you're aware that today we will be discussing treatments," she began, glancing down at her chart. 

"Yeah, yeah," Stiles sighed absently, swinging his legs back and forth. 

"Stiles," Dr. Haynes scolded. "My suggestion for treatment is radiation therapy." 

"Uhg."

She smiled at Stiles' repulsed face. 

"As there are with every treatment, there will be side effects. Fatigue, dry mouth, peeling, dry, or blistering skin, difficulty swallowing, mouth and gum sores, stiffness of the jaw, nausea, puking, hair loss, and tooth decay are some."

Stiles glared at the wall. 

"Why don't you just cut this bitch out?" he asked harshly, not looking her in the eyes. 

Dr. Haynes smiled sadly. 

"You don't have a small tumor, Stiles. There's a high chance that if we do perform surgery, you'll lose your voice. You'll never speak again. We've put off your treatment for too long, which was a mistake on all of our parts."

Stiles just rolled his eyes. 

Dr. Haynes sighed. 

"Listen, Stiles, I want you to get better. This radiation therapy might just help you, _and_ save your voice. Let's see how it goes. Worst comes to worst, we'll have to operate so that the tumour doesn't spread. But let's just see how this pans out," she smiled softly. "Besides, I know how much you like to talk."

"I want you back a week from today to start your first treatment, and we'll go from there okay? Before I go has anything been bothering you?"

"Well the blood is a constant. And there's been a few rough coughing fits too, but the blood is most definitely a bother."

"As for today I'm just going to suggest having a tablespoon of honey a few times a day to sooth your throat. Once we start treatments we can give you something that won't react to it. So I'll see you next week Stiles, have a nice day." She left a slip of paper with the date of his first treatment on the bed as she left.

Stiles pushed himself to his feet and folded up the paper to put in his pocket, not wanting to face his dire reality. He went to leave the room and when he started down the hall, Stiles quite literally ran into Derek.

“Whoa, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” he prattled, smoothing his hands over Derek’s shoulders, checking for bumps and bruises, ducking his head to stare intently at Derek’s torso. 

“It’s… it’s, uh, fine,” Derek mumbled, his cheeks turning a rosy pink. It was embarrassing for Derek. It seemed that Stiles had a way of getting under his skin, just putting him in a constant blush.

"You're so... blushy," Stiles smiled coyly, forgetting his hands on Derek's chest. 

"Uh..." Derek mumbled, glancing down at Stiles' hands. 

"Oh! Sorry," Stiles smiled sheepishly, snatching his hands from the other man's chest. "Wait, I thought they weren't really dragging you back to the hospital that much since like," Stiles cut off, looking to the ground. He was kicking himself for thinking _there's nothing really you can do._

"I," Derek tried to compose himself, "I had another seizure, at home this time. They're, uh, they're increasing my prescription for the Dystonia meds too, to the regular amount. They officially diagnosed me with that a few minutes ago." Derek's voice got continually quieter. He was trying not to look so destroyed, but how could he not. 

Stiles brushed off some nerves he was feeling. "Well uh, I can give you my number." 

Derek raised an eyebrow at him.

"Only if you want it!" Stiles exclaimed, hands up defensively, eyes widening. "I just, I figured, well, family can get a little much sometimes, and if you ever needed someone to help you out or something, like with your hands or if you just wanted to talk, that you could call me."

It was Stiles' turn to blush under Derek's intense gaze, realizing he was rambling on. "It was a stupid idea anyway," he murmured, turning, prepared to walk away.

Derek was, to put it simply, in shock. When he came back down to Earth, Stiles was halfway down the hall and his head was hanging. Derek knew it was stupid to even think of pursuing anything with Stiles, even if he just wanted a friend, it would end in pain. But for once, Derek let himself be completely selfish. 

He jogged down the straight stretch of the hospital, saying Stiles' name as he reached the boy, turning him around with a strong hand on his shoulder. "Well," he said with a ridiculous smile, slightly winded, bones aching, "aren't you going to give me your number?"

Stiles grinned goofily, and looking around wildly, he reached over and snatched a pen from an unsuspecting resident's chest pocket. 

Grasping the cap of the pen firmly between his teeth, Stiles yanked the pen from the cap and scribbled on his hand a few times. When the ink began to flow, he gave a triumphant "ha!" and grabbed Derek's arm. 

"This is my cell," he said, his voice muffled by the cap in his mouth. "I answer it, like, ninety-five percent of the time. If I don't answer, call again, and I'll probably answer."

Scribbling a little smiley face beside the last number, he grabbed Derek's other arm. 

"And uh... this is the house phone, just in case," he prattled. "Just in case - you probably won't have to use it, I just think it'd be a good idea? You won't need it though so I don't even know why I'm giving it to you but here, you know, just in case."

"You said that already," Derek grinned. 

"Oh. Yeah," Stiles blushed and then coughed violently into his shoulder. "Sorry."

"I have to go back to my room,". Derek said, throwing a thumb over his shoulder, Stiles just realizing that Derek had a hospital gown on. "But um, you should try honey, for your throat. I usually give it to Charlie when her's is bothering her so maybe that'll help."

Stiles gaped at Derek. "Yeah, actually I was planning on it," Stiles smiled, "my doctor just recommended the same thing."

Derek nodded in response. He seemed a little stuck in place, dancing on his toes, before quickly darting in and kissing Stiles on the cheek. "I'll call you," he promised, leaving Stiles in awe as he disappeared to his room.


	5. Like Real People Do

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our boys hang out, cuddles and kisses ensue :D
> 
> See y'all next week!

Stiles thought that giving Derek his number would change things a little, but maybe he was wrong. By doing so he was gifted with two glorious weeks of radio silence from him. It was possible that Derek changed his mind about Stiles, or that he washed off the number before he could input it, but it seemed like he really cared about it. He basically chased Stiles down to make sure he knew he really did want it from him.

He'd had two rounds of radiation therapy since his last run in with the stubbled boy, and it was rough. 

It didn't hurt during the procedure, just as Dr. Haynes had promised, but the side effects killed him. He was nauseous and tired, and Stiles was really beginning to hate the stupid _linear accelerator_. Stiles was beginning to think that the five minutes he stayed using the machine was _not_ worth it. 

He was cooped up in bed, having just returned from from treatment. He had all of his devices organized at his side: cell phone, PS4 controller, laptop, tv remote, and for the sheriff's sake he had the house phone as well. Stiles had learned quickly that the treatments wore him out more than he thought they would. 

Being told something is a little different than experiencing it, and constantly feeling like you want to claw your throat out is something Stiles wished he didn't have to deal with. And his _hair_. Now, Stiles loved his buzz cut to death, but he did _not_ like being bald. Hats were now his best friend because, come on, who the hell wants a cold and naked head? 

He was just about to turn on the PS4 to get some therapeutic relief through getting to stare at Ezio Auditore and all his assassin wonder, when his phone started vibrating.

“Yello?” he greeted as he squished the phone between his shoulder and cheek, reaching over to turn the game system on. 

“Why am I being greeted with a color? Is this a new thing, should I start saying ‘green?’ when I answer the phone now? Or maybe ‘black?’” Derek’s voice commented casually through the receiver. 

“Black’s actually a shade,” Stiles remarked weakly, eyes wide with surprise. 

“My mistake,” Derek stated flatly. Stiles could practically _hear_ his eye roll. 

Stiles smirked, fumbling with the controler, starting the game.

“Oh my god," Stiles groaned, getting momentarily lost in the sway of the Assassin robes when the character walked, almost forgetting about Derek who cleared his throat rather awkwardly.

"Oh my god!" Stiles exclaimed, changing his tone completely. "I, no I'm not- I'm playing Assassin's Creed. The second one? Yeah uh, I have a penchant for getting _very_ distracted by the character, Ezio. I haven't played in a long while and well I guess the accent and movements caught me off guard? I mean he's Italian so..." He trailed off and by the end of Stiles' explanation he thought his voice had to have been at least two or three octaves higher than normal.

Derek barked out a laugh, and quickly became serious. "I only have one question for you. How do you feel about Leonardo? Mind you, our entire new friendship is on the line here."

"The whole thing?" Stiles teased, unable to keep himself from being cheeky. He yawned before continuing, "Well I really think the both of them need to hide their feelings a little better. Like let's be real, Leo get your shit together because Ezio sure won’t." Stiles was on the verge of being hysterical, but held himself together the best he could, scratching at his throat.

Derek made a thoughtful noise, "You pass," he said flippantly. He would've loved to have seen the proud blush blooming on Stiles' face over such a silly topic.

Stiles let out a harsh cough before piping back up. "So Mr. Hale, how about you come over because I'm in dire need of social interaction yeah?" He may have sounded confident but he was the furthest thing from it. 

"I, uh, yeah sure I can totally do that, I'll just find someone to drop me off." Derek sounded a lot happier than he did moments before and Stiles preened at the thought that it was him that did that.

“Awesome!” Stiles grinned, bouncing up and down a bit. 

“Yeah, I’ll, uh, I’ll just get ready…” Derek trailed off awkwardly, unsure. 

“Oh, uh, yeah! I’ll let you go and, you know, get ready. I’ll, um, see you in a bit!” 

With that final awkward stutter, Stiles hung up, a light blush dusting his cheeks. He grinned to himself for a moment, until he realized the utter chaos that was his house. Jackets, shoes, bills, old mail, and _So You Have Cancer, Now What?_ books and pamphlets, were scattered all throughout the house. 

Stiles groaned. Neither him or his father had vacuumed for weeks. 

_Come on, Stilinski,_ he thought to himself, _channel your inner Flash, do a mad dash_. Laughing at his own joke, Stiles ran around the house, gathering everything and anything made of paper into his arms. Stumbling into his room, he looked about himself frantically. Where to put all these books, bills, and mail? 

_Under the bed!_

Mentally patting himself on the back, Stiles shoved everything in his arms beneath the bed, kicking at the stray envelopes slipping out before running back down the stairs. 

Breathing heavily, he coughed, wincing at the metallic taste in his mouth. He ran downstairs and grabbed the honey from the cabinet, foregoing the whole teaspoon thing and squeezing a ridiculous amount into his mouth. Stiles was grateful for the fact that he naturally liked honey because it would really suck otherwise.

“Yeah, yeah vacuuming,” he breathed to himself, running to the closet. 

Yanking the vacuum out of the closet, Stiles made a mad dash to the living room. Flicking the switch, he went to quickly move the machine over the floor. Nothing happened. 

“Shit, I have to plug it in!” 

Running even faster, he ripped the cord out and made a move towards the socket in the wall. 

He tripped. 

•••

"Laura!" Derek was in a near panic, _why_ would he agree to go to Stiles' house. Well because he liked him, but that didn't matter. He was completely awkward around him! All he needed was to put them alon- _crap_ being alone did not cross Derek's mind at all.

Laura burst into his room, expecting a stiff or even convulsing little brother, but she had to bite back hysterical laughter when she saw him sitting on the edge of his bed, staring wide-eyes at the wall in front of him. 

“What’s got your panties in a twist?” she asked, smirking as she approached the bed. Plopping herself down beside her brother, she laughed. “You look like someone just shoved something up your ass!”

"Stiles just invited me over and I said yes," Derek squeaked, completely ignoring Laura's commentary aside from her question. Laura squealed and started clapping while she practically floated over to his closet, whipping open the doors.

“So I’m thinking you could wear something that shows that you care, but not that you _care care_.” 

Derek looked at his sister in bewilderment. 

“What does that even _mean_?” 

Laura rolled her eyes. 

“You’re lucky you’re pretty, baby bro. I think you’d look best with a bad boy edge,” her words became muffled as she dug around in the closet, giving a soft “huzzah!” when she found the “perfect” pair of grey wash jeans. “A good old black henley and jeans would do you well. Now where’s your leather jacket?” 

Blinking owlishly, Derek followed his sister’s movement with his eyes. He was getting dizzy. She threw the clothing over her shoulder, landing haphazardly on Derek's head and other various body parts. Since she was so enraptured by the contents of his closet Derek just changed while her back was turned. He got up from the bed and reached past her searching form to pluck his leather jacket from a hook on the door right in front of her face.

"I got it," he simply stated, pulling Laura from the depths of her exploration. "And I'm wearing my boots, I don't care what you think of them."

Derek padded across the floor and slipped his feet into his worn Doc Martens, lacing them up with a familiarity as if it was second nature.

Sighing obnoxiously, Laura made her way over to the door. 

“You’re lucky it goes with the _look_. Meet me in the car.” 

With that she left Derek behind, trotting down the stairs. He quickly grabbed his phone and, as a last minute thought, snatched his Assassin’s Creed: Brotherhood game off his desk. He bound down the stairs and out of the house, flopping into the passenger seat beside his sister.

Derek practically willed Laura to start the car, trying not to lose his nerve more than he already had. The ride was quiet and only the sound of Marianas Trench on shuffle kept the vehicle from silence. 

As soon as Laura pulled into the driveway, Derek hopped out of the car. 

“Enjoy your dork-fest!” she called after him, laughing lightly as he rolled his eyes, waving her goodbye. 

Derek knocked on the door. His heart was beating out of his chest and he debated on just turning back now before Stiles ever saw him, but he couldn’t bear to see any sort of unrest on his friend’s face.

The door lurched open, and Stiles nearly stumbled out. 

“Hi,” he grinned dopily, staring up at Derek’s shy eyes. 

“Hi,” Derek smiled gently, blushing lightly. 

“You, uh, look great,” Stiles attempted to comment casually, coughing and scratching at the back of his neck. 

The man on the porch smiled wider and looked to the floor. 

“Thanks,” he said, mirroring Stiles’ motion of rubbing at his neck, “Laura took it upon herself to dress me so, yeah.” Derek cringed at himself, it was so unlike him to be rendered so utterly helpless in conversation. He didn’t say much, but most of the time the things he did say were with confidence. Stiles seemed to just shut down all normal function, and he couldn’t be bothered to care. 

Stiles motioned for Derek to come inside, and the pair climbed the stairs up to Stiles’ room. 

They stood in the doorway awkwardly for a moment, looking at each other and then at the room. 

“So… uh,” Stiles trailed off, unsure. 

“How about that Assassin’s Creed?” Derek suggested hesitantly. “We never really got to finish our conversation, and I mean I finished the game already so you can just continue on if you want.” 

Stiles plopped down on his bed, going along with Derek's idea. The other teen was still drifting in the doorway and taking everything in. Stiles had various posters of Batman and classic rock bands, as well as some video game ads.

"Well don't just stand there," Stiles smirked, patting the space on the bed next to him. 

Derek broke out of his reverie when Stiles started talking. He made his way over and gently sat at his side.

"So..." he dragged out the word, looking around the room. "Batman, huh?" 

"Don't judge," Stiles admonished, reaching over and flicking Derek's knee. 

"I'm not," Derek laughed, holding his hands up in mock surrender. "I like Batman, but I have to say I'm a bit partial to Spider Man." 

Stiles laughed. 

Coughing into his wrist, he smiled, "You could so be Batman. You have that cool, broody, dark mysterious look to you." 

Derek paused, tilting his head in an exaggerated fashion. 

"You have the sarcasm and wit of a good Spider Man." 

"I'm honored, my dear friend," Stiles giggled, turning his attention back to the screen. He peeked at Derek from the corner of his eye. He had a dopey smile on his face and intensely raised eyebrows. 

"The pleasure is all mine, Spidey."

Stiles was engrossed in his game as the two sat in comfortable silence. Derek was content watching Stiles, seeing the little quirks he had when he would misstep or take a hit. The bed was extremely comfortable, but Derek should've known better than to have sat still for so long. 

His torso felt tight and his shoulders were aching and hunched. A groan of pain and discomfort slipped out against his will, causing Stiles to immediately pause his game and turn to Derek. 

"Hey man," Stiles said with concern laced in his soft voice, "are you alright?" He knew that Derek was having a hard time with muscle contraction, or well relaxing his muscles anyway. It was difficult to see him in pain, but he thought Derek must feel the same when he feels like he's about to hack up a lung. 

"It's getting worse Stiles," Derek hissed out through clenched teeth. His body was causing him so much pain. 

"Just um, you know what, turn over okay?" Stiles made some sort of hand motion meant to mimic Derek flipping his body over. And Derek would, but his muscles just wouldn't cooperate at all. He looked at Stiles with fearful, pleading eyes. He didn't know what to do.

Stiles gripped Derek's hip with one hand and his shoulder in the other and gently rolled the man to his stomach. He took Derek's hands in his own with great care and stretched them slowly above his head to straighten out his arms. Stiles then cautiously moved to straddle Derek just above the swell of his perfect ass- _no Stiles_ , he berated himself. He planted himself on Derek while asking in a low voice as if anything above a whisper would break this moment they were holding, "this okay?"

“Yeah,” he stated gruffly, gritting his teeth. 

Stiles nodded firmly to himself, biting his lip. Sliding his hands down the man’s back, he kneaded into the toned muscle beneath his palms. He heard Derek sigh in relief, and Stiles felt his nerves soothe at the pleased sound. 

“Tell me if you’re uncomfortable, okay?” he said warily, not halting in his ministrations. 

“Okay.” 

Derek’s voice sounded so unsure, and Stiles’ heart broke for him. 

His hands worked their way back up while still placing pressure on the knots he found under the skin. Stiles used his knuckles to grind harder over the bones of Derek's shoulders, wishing the shirt was absent and that he could soothe the pain with strokes of his tongue and short pecks to the skin. 

Derek whined underneath him and could feel his body coming back under his own control. Stiles' finger flitted back to the middle of his friend's back and started a light pounding rhythm along Derek's spine. 

When Derek had enough movement he reached a hand back and encircled one of Stiles wrists in his strong hand.

“Thank you,” he whispered, so soft that Stiles had to strain his ears to hear it. 

Relaxing into his grip, Stiles smiled tiredly. He was completely and utterly fucked. 

“It’s my pleasure, big guy,” 

Derek laughed weakly, rolling over beneath Stiles so that his hips were between Stiles’ legs. Thumping his head back on to the pillows, he pulled Stiles with him, settling the other man on his shoulder. 

Shocked but pleased, Stiles leaned into the touch, resting the palm of his hand on Derek’s chest. He felt the steady beating of Derek’s heart and finally understood that the beating of a heart didn’t mean someone wasn’t dying. He finally understood that you didn’t have to look sick to be sick.

“I don’t deserve this,” Derek mumbled, turning his head to look at the man lying beside him. 

Straining up to look into Derek’s eyes, Stiles felt his heart crack. Lifting his head, he placed a soft kiss to the side of Derek’s mouth. 

“You deserve anything that makes you feel better,” he declared, leaning his head back on Derek’s shoulder. He curled up further into his friend, hooking his leg over Derek’s. “You don’t deserve to be sick.” 

A moment passed between the two, the silence heavy between them. 

“Neither do you.” 

Derek pressed his forehead softly to Stiles' temple, eyebrows drawn tightly together. Stiles felt a tear fall down his cheek. 

"I'm leaking," he gave a watery chuckle. 

Derek smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling. Feeling a surge of bravery Derek brushed his lips along the side of Stiles' face, catching the stray tear. 

Derek committed the soft gasp that passed Stiles' lips to memory as he whispered to him with a soft grin, "I guess we'll just have to fix that won't we?" 

He cupped Stiles' cheek and guided the boy up so that he could gaze into watery eyes before his own slipped closed and Derek sealed his lips to Stiles'. It was a simple, closed mouthed kiss, and Stiles didn’t think it could get any more perfect. People said that there would be fireworks, or that sparks would fly, but there was none of that and they didn't need it. It was purely Stiles and Derek.

Stiles had his hands gripped in the sheets at the sides of Derek's head. When he pulled away he brushed his nose against the other's and sighed a breath of content.

"Better?"

"Yes, Derek." Stiles couldn't stop his bubbly laughter, tears now streaming down his face, "so much better."

Chuckling deeply, Derek reached over to wipe away Stiles’ tears. Every touch was suddenly so simple. The transition from friends to something more seemed non existent.

“Now, what are you crying about, baby?” he asked softly, staring deeply into Stiles’ eyes. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m - I’m -” Stiles hiccuped softly, laughing a little. “How can I be so happy and so sad at the same time?”

Derek smiled sadly, his eyes softening. Pressing his palms to Stiles’ cheeks, he bent and kissed the man again. He pulled away after a moment. 

“It’s a mystery,” he declared, not knowing what else to say. He knew being with a dying man would be hard, and so would loving one. He wouldn’t blame Stiles if he decided somewhere along the way that he couldn’t handle being with Derek anymore, or at all. 

•••

The door clicked shut and Stiles collapsed against it, pulling out his phone. It should've been weird to call Lydia seconds after his and Derek's hang out turned cuddle session, but if he didn't talk to someone about it it would drive him insane.

“Lydia, you’ll never guess what just happened,” he breathed into the phone before Lydia could even say, “hello”. 

“What?” she asked in a bored tone, unbothered by Stiles’ antics. 

“I kissed Derek Hale,” he squealed, doing a little dance. 

“What?” she repeated, shock evident in her voice. Stiles grinned broadly, knowing that he had her full, undivided attention. 

“That’s right,” he boasted. “You know what’s even better? He kissed me!” 

Lydia let out a melodious laugh. Stiles smiled at the sound, coughing into his hand. 

“We kissed each other!” he exclaimed, bouncing up and down. 

“Yes, yes, but how? When did this happen?” she asked happily, indulging her friend. For once, Lydia vowed to let her reservations about Derek and Stiles rest. 

“Well, we were playing Assassin’s Creed - he ships Lezio - and then he was stiff so I decided to be the amazing person that I am and help a guy out. Next thing I know we’re cuddling and he kisses me!”

Stiles blushed, keeping the details to himself. Some things were meant to be left unsaid, even to a best friend like Lydia. 

•••

Derek couldn't wipe the near permanent blush from his face if he tried. Stiles hadn't done anything but squeeze him in a hug right before he left and his face heated over instantly. 

Laura, being the annoying sister she is, only gave Derek about thirty glorious seconds of peace before she asked him how it went. 

"It was alright." Derek aimed for nonchalance, but Laura wasn't having that.

"Derek."

"Fine, it was amazing okay! The best day of my life and I'm freaking out because I want more than I'll ever be able to have because I'm dying. I kissed him, and I'm so happy I can't even explain it to you, but I'm still fucking dying."

“Derek, I -” she cut herself off. “I don’t know what to say.” 

Derek grit his teeth, clenching his fist. He resisted the urge to punch something. 

“Me neither, because I’m going to die, and he could die too, and then where the fuck will we be?” he growled at her, glaring harshly at nothing. 

“Dead,” Laura sighed, setting her jaw mournfully. She couldn’t look at him. 

“Fucking dead!” he roared, smashing his fists on the dashboard. Laura flinched, and he sighed. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, looking down to his lap. “I just - I don’t know what to do, what to think.” 

“Me neither, Brother. Me neither.”


	6. Weight of Living

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles gets some really important news, Charlie delivers a ray of sunshine, and Derek is a really good boyfriend.

“Stiles…” Dr. Haynes began hesitantly. “It seems… it seems that we didn’t get the results we hoped for.”

Stiles stared bitterly at his hands, clearing his throat roughly. He said nothing, just reached up and scratched at the raw expanse of his neck. 

“The radiation didn’t work.” 

Shamefully, he felt his eyes fill with tears. He blinked them away furiously, angrily rubbing at his jaw. 

“So what now?” he asked, his voice hoarse. He knew the answer, and he didn’t like it. 

Dr. Haynes looked at the young man on the observation table remorsefully. Grasping her clipboard firmly between her fingers, she swallowed. 

“We operate.” 

Stiles made a sour face, glaring at the white wall above the woman’s shoulder. 

“Can I get a glass of water?” he asked tonelessly. “This radiation shit has been making me so fucking thirsty.” 

•••

Beacon Hill’s sheriff John Stilinski has had a lot of experience with illness. But staring at his son, his eighteen year old son, trying not to cry because his _radiation therapy_ didn’t work, made him re-think all of his experiences.

“It’ll be okay, son,” he tried, gripping the steering wheel tightly in his hands. Stiles made a scoffing sound before coughing. 

“Shut up, Dad,” he sighed, staring out the window. “I don’t need your shitty optimism right now.” 

“I want it to be okay,” the sheriff revised, looking hopefully to his son. Stiles cracked a weary smile. 

“Yeah, me too,” he mumbled, rolling his head to look at his father. “Could you take me to Derek’s? I should… tell him the news.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” John frowned, nodding his head firmly. His son needed some more good friends. 

He dropped Stiles at the Hale house and just told him to call whenever he needed. Derek must’ve seen him come up the driveway because when he finally got to the porch he was already leaning against the doorframe.

Stiles didn’t stop. He just let himself walk right into Derek, and his arms came up to hold the man against him. Stiles could feel the tears he had been barely holding at bay trail down his face and sobs wracked through his body.

Derek responded to Stiles’ clinging hug with just as much force, crushing him to his chest. He felt like he was holding Stiles together as he tucked his face into his shoulder. He whispered sweet nothings into the crook of Stiles’ neck and filled the silence in between words with short kisses against the skin. It had been about a month since they had their first kiss, and each one following was better than the last. The two spent as much time as possible together, solidifying the fresh bond that had arisen between them.

Derek didn’t know what it was that had Stiles so torn up, but God knows he would do anything to stop his tears. He pulled away far enough that he could nudge Stiles’ face up with his nose touching against the other’s chin, and their eyes met. Whiskey eyes were soaked in sorrow and fear, while kaleidoscopes were coated in concern and affection.

“It didn’t work,” Stiles choked out, his cheeks red and splotchy. He heaved a breathy sob and mentally smacked himself for acting like a child. 

“What?” Derek asked, confused. He searched Stiles’ eyes, looking for a hint of what was going on. “What didn’t work?” 

“ _Radiation,_ dumbass,” he wailed, scrunching his face up as more tears fell down his cheeks. 

“Oh my God.” Derek nearly shattered right there in Stiles' arms. "C'mon let's get you upstairs okay?" 

Derek wasn't sure if he would get to carry Stiles when it counted so he scooped him up in his arms and carried Stiles to his room.

He placed Stiles down on the bed, laying him on his side so he could lie behind him. Derek wound and arm around Stiles' waist and tucked his face into his neck. He placed a lingering kiss to the dusting of hair on the back of Stiles' head, and just let his- _friend? boyfriend?_ \- breathe against him.

"They want to do surgery." Stiles' voice was weak, like the fight just drained out of him, and he sank against Derek. "They said that there's a chance that when they operate they might take my voice from me too. I can't- how can I be me, be _Stiles_ without my voice?" There was a hitch in his breath at the thought of never speaking again.

"You'll still be you, even if you have no voice. You will still be heard. I will hear you. Your dad and Lydia will hear you too. Your voice does not create your presence. You create your presence. Never worry about losing yourself, I'll be there to bring you back." 

Derek nuzzled at exposed skin and peach-fuzz hair and heard Stiles sigh before flipping around. The two were silent, feeling each other's heart beating in their chest.

Stiles drew closer and kissed Derek like his lips were the air he needed to breathe. It was desperate, but completely under control and if that didn't describe Stiles then what did? It felt so damn good to be pressed up against Derek, feeling his firm torso glued to his own. There was so much passion Stiles felt like he could taste it on the other boy's tongue when it met his own. 

They kissed for what felt like hours, until Stiles pulled away, leaning his forehead on Derek’s and looking the man in the eye.

“I don’t know if I want to kill myself now,” he stated solemnly, “or stick it out just to give a, ‘fuck you” to God.” 

Derek hummed thoughtfully, pretending that he wasn’t worried. 

“I say go for the ‘fuck you’. I would think that's more your style.” 

Stiles gave a watery laugh, leaning into Derek. 

“I say we both give a big ‘fuck you’,” he whispered softly, avoiding Derek’s eyes. 

Derek didn’t say anything for a few moments, mulling over what to say. He tried to look Stiles in the eyes, but the boy kept looking away. Sighing deeply, he gripped Stiles’ chin between his fingers, forcing the man to look at him. 

“Yeah,” he mussed, kissing Stiles softly. 

He never really was a very good liar. Stiles knew it too, but he smiled gratefully, and happily accepted the kiss. The rest would come with time. 

•••

Stiles was making his way out of his house two days later, just for something to do. It's kind of weird going from four different kinds of medication to practically nothing when they realized it wouldn't work. Pills irritated the tumor, so it was just like being a kid all over again, with "chewy bubblegum" and "wild cherry" and "crazy grape". They tasted like shit and Stiles was glad to get rid of them. When he went to head out the door he nearly stepped on a small, wrapped package on his doorstep. When he picked it up he saw his name printed in sharpie marker on top. 

Stiles pulled at the neatly fitted paper until he saw he was holding an ASL beginners book in his hands. A nervous shiver ran through his body as he sat on one of the porch steps and set the book in his lap. His eyes scanned the cover and he saw that a piece of paper had been slid inside. 

He recognized Derek's unique script as he realized it was a letter. 

_Stiles-_  
We never really know what will happen in the future, but yesterday I went out with Charlie and Laura and we picked up two copies of this book. I know you're scared that you won't be able to talk anymore if you end up getting the surgery, and I'm scared too, but I think that this could be really important. I would hate to think that you would be stuck without a simple way to just communicate with people, which to be honest is the easiest thing you do :). I'm going to teach Charlie and maybe we could teach each other? I'm really worried about you and I hope you don't take this book the wrong way. I just want you to be okay.  
 ~~I lo-~~ <3 Der 

_P.s. Call me when you get this_

Stiles was frozen. Derek, Jesus, Stiles didn’t know if the guy even knows what this meant to him. The letter was clutched in his hand and his eyes were firmly shut. It was almost too much for him to even understand, but for Derek to think of this, for him; it was amazing. 

It was terrifying that sign language could be the outcome for Stiles, yet he was shockingly serene about the whole thing. Being able to communicate was really the only concern for him, and he really didn’t feel like using a whiteboard or something if it really came down to losing his voice.

Stiles felt his resolve settle in, and smiling smugly, he bet himself he'd master the language in less than half a year. Laughing to himself softly, he headed back inside and up the stairs to his room. Settling himself at the desk, he opened the book and began to study. 

Stiles spent hours pouring over the book, scribbling notes furiously across the lines of an empty notebook he found, signing out letters, phrases, and sentences until he could do them in his sleep. Years could have passed before he decided to take a break. 

He glanced at his phone furtively, biting his lip. Looking from his notes to the phone, he contemplated calling Derek. Maybe he could even sneak a little conversation in with Charlie. Stiles fingered the edges of the phone, picking it up and pressing “call”. It rang three times before Derek picked up.

“Black?” Derek greeted, and Stiles had to laugh. 

“How many times do I have to tell you, black is a shade, not a color!” he exclaimed, smushing the phone between his shoulder and cheek. 

“I’m just trying to be _hip_. Don’t judge me for trying, Mr. Social Media Prince.” 

Stiles practically could hear Derek’s smirk, and he laughed again. 

“ _Social media prince_ , huh? I think I like that. Seems a bit long though. How about this: I also accept ‘My Liege’, ‘My Lord’, and ‘Your Majesty’."

There was a lot of rustling going on at Derek's end of the line. Stiles thought he heard a few murmured requests from Derek as well. 

"Sorry," Derek said sheepishly, "I'm just trying to get Charlie down for - _Charlie c'mon you know how to put pajamas on like a big girl_ \- for bed. It can be a bit, how can I put it? Chaotic? Yeah, chaotic. _Sweetie, bed. Now. Please._ "

Stiles stifled a chuckle at the thought of Charlie giving Derek a hard time. It quickly turned into him having heart eyes at the fact the Derek is a really good 'dad'. 

" _Are we ready now Princess Charlie?_ "

Stiles heard a twinkling response in the form of a toddler before Derek came back to the line.

“Sorry about that,” he mumbled sheepishly, and Stiles heard more rustling, until Derek spoke again, this time to Charlie. “It’s just Stiles, baby, go to sleep.” 

Stiles heard a petulant “No!” and a “Gimme!” before Derek sighed in resignation. 

“Charlie wants to say goodnight,” he said apologetically, as if talking to the cutest child Stiles had ever met would be some great burden. 

Stiles chuckled, smiling softly. “Hand her the phone.” 

A moment passed before he heard a cheerful, “‘Tiles!”. 

“Heya baby girl! Are you giving Derek a hard time?” he asked lightly, spinning in his wheeling chair around his room. 

His smile broadened as he heard her giggle and give a timid, “No…” which he knew totally meant “yes”. Stiles laughed happily, standing and flopping on his bed. 

“Why don’t you wanna go to sleep, huh?” he asked. “If you don’t get a good night’s rest, you’ll be sleepy tomorrow, and that’s not fun. Trust me, I know.” 

“Not tired!” she pouted, and Stiles could hear Derek’s exasperated sigh from across the line. 

"Sweetheart I bet," Stiles started, "that if you get ready for bed nice and easy for Derek, he'll lay down with you or maybe if you're extra good he'll bring you in his room. He could definitely use some cuddles from his favorite girl." Stiles rolled over and threw his free arm above his head. "I think I'm gonna go to bed too so can you put Derek back on the phone? Hey, remember what I said, okay?"

"I will, I will!" She squealed, "Bye 'Tiles!"

Derek's voice came over the line once again in a short amount of time, "Hey so the book, did you uh, did you like it?" He was so unsure. It was a huge risk to do something that essential for Stiles.

"Yeah, I actually really loved it Der." Stiles's voice went soft with affection. "It really means a lot to me to know that you'll be with me in this."

His breath caught in his throat. The two of them would have to take the world on together in the upcoming months.

"Like I said, I just want you to be okay Stiles."

"Hey Derek? Stay with Charlie tonight. I think both you and her need it more than you think." Stiles could only imagine what was going on in the little girl's head. He entire life was shaken by the fact that Derek was sick.

A short while after, Derek had ended the call with Stiles and looked over at Charlie who was seated cross-legged on her bed. Even at only four years old she just seemed so big to Derek, she must've been growing bit by bit every day. 

"How about you come sleep with me tonight? That sound good princess?"

"Yes!" She jumped to her feet and the bed shook beneath her. 

Derek walked over and swept her up in his arms. He took a quick pace back to his room, his little girl's hair bouncing all around, and flopped onto the bed while he cradled her to his chest. She squealed in laughter from the unexpected landing and shoved her face into Derek's shirt.

He didn't turn the lights on when they came in so all Derek had to do was get the both of them under the covers. He laid down on his side and pulled Charlie in close to him. She faced Derek with her head tucked into the open space between his arm and his chest. His arm spanned basically her entire torso and his hand fanned out at her shoulder blades.

"Goodnight, Charlie," he sighed, letting his eyes fall closed and falling into a deep slumber. A few minutes passed before Charlie let herself respond. 

"Night, Daddy."


	7. Mercy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek craves something real. Nothing feels the same, and everything is as if it is rushing past him. It's like there's nothing to hold onto, but then there's Stiles.

"Okay, Charles," Stiles stated with a flourish, swooping his arms out around him. "The world is yours." 

"But I just wan’ a teddy," Charlie frowns, looking up at the man beside her, reaching up to grab his hand. She thought for a moment. "And a gift for Dee-dee." 

Stiles laughed, pulling the girl towards the “Stuffed Toys” sign. He felt his heart lurch as she looked around at the toys in wonder.

"So whaddya wanna get Derek?" he asked, knowing full well that he was probably going to end up paying for it. 

Humming, Charlie let go of his hand and skipped over to a golden teddy with chocolate brown eyes and a red velvet bow. It was large, and soft looking, and the tag said, _Special Edition: Limited Time Only!_. She inspected it seriously, her eyebrows creasing in concentration. Stiles stood patiently behind her as she inspected the toy. After a few minutes Charlie looked to her companion. 

"This one." 

The conviction in her tone shocked Stiles. 

"Yeah?" he hummed, looking for a price. Glancing at the tag, his eyes widened. "That's... A lot of money, Charles." 

Looking up at him with wide eyes, she frowned. 

"Huh?" 

Kneeling down to her level, Stiles sighed. Taking both of her tiny hands in his, he said, "Listen, baby, Dee-dee and I don't have the money to buy your teddy for you." Reaching up and tugging on a curl of her hair lightly, he tried to meet her eyes. Between the two of them, the costs were adding up. As much as he wanted to give Charlie what she wanted, they could barely get what they needed. "I wish we did, but we honestly don't. Maybe it would be best to pick out a different teddy, at least for now."

She stayed quiet for a few moments, looking down at their joined hands pensively. Ducking his head, Stiles tried to get a good look at her face. She tried to look away, but not before he caught the tears in her eyes. Stiles kind of wanted to cry then, too. Sometimes he forgot how little Charlie really was. She always acted so calmly and maturely, but she was still a four year old little girl that was just told there wasn’t enough money for what she wanted, probably for the first time. 

“I’m sorry, Charlie,” he sighed mournfully, rubbing a stray tear away from her cheek. 

“S’okay,” she mumbled, rubbing at her eyes with one hand, the other still firmly held in Stiles’. She sniffled, looking down. Reaching her arms outward, she made a grabby motion with her hands. “Up,” she cried softly, and Stiles didn’t resist. Hefting her into his arms, he stood. 

“Do you wanna find another teddy?” he asked, and she shook her head furiously. He wanted to protest, but knew there was no point. “Let’s go find Dee-dee,” he suggested gently instead, and she nodded into his neck. 

They found him at the candy counter, buying a bag of gum drops. Stiles came up and bumped his shoulder gently, giving him a sad smile. 

“Hey,” he greeted. “Look Charlie, I got gum drops. You can have some after lunch.” Seeing her leaning morosely on Stiles’ shoulder, Derek frowned. “What’s wrong?” 

Sighing deeply, Stiles coughed into his shoulder. He bounced Charlie softly in his arms, looking sadly at the girl. 

“The teddy she wanted was out of our budget and she doesn’t want to look for another.” 

Charlie peeked out from where she was hidden in Stiles' neck and looked at the pair. Stiles took the opportunity to smack a kiss on her cheek at which she squeaked and buried herself back into him.

Grinning mischievously at each other, Stiles and Derek went in for the attack. They planted kisses wherever they could reach, tickling her legs and squishing her toes, poking her tummy and blowing raspberries, moving ruthlessly until Charlie was nothing but a squirming, giggling mess. 

A chorus of "aww's" echoed around the trio, but their giggles blocked out all outside noise. Their relief at seeing Charlie smile again was palpable, and as they left the store little Charlie had a smile on her face and a bag of gum drops in hand. 

The three of them all got into Stiles' jeep, recently equipped with a car seat for Derek's munchkin. When Derek finished buckling her in he looked up to Stiles, "Do you think we can just drop Charlie off at the house? I have a, uh- an appointment and I thought maybe you could come with me?" 

He tried not to be too hopeful as he slid into the passenger seat, but then again he couldn't really help himself. Derek found that any time he spent with Stiles, no matter how short, could put a smile on his face for days. 

"Yes," Stiles beamed, "I mean well, yeah, sure," He cleared his throat as Derek laughed at his failed attempt to hide his excitement. 

"Why can't I come too Dee-dee?" Charlie pouted.

Derek turned in his seat so he could see Charlie when he replied. "We talked about this yesterday sweetie, it's gonna take a really long time and it might hurt a bit so I don't want you to worry about me. I promise I'll show you tomorrow okay?"

She nodded at him and resumed looking out the window at the cars passing them in the other direction. Derek's gaze lingered on her for a few moments longer, just taking in his little girl. To be only eighteen and be the legal guardian to a four year old was a huge job, but it's what Derek had wanted since he first met Charlie.

They slowly maneuvered down the rocky Hale driveway and when Stiles put the car in park he got out and lifted Charlie from her seat in what may have been record time. 

"Alright darlin' this is where we bid farewell," he swayed, speaking dramatically. Charlie smacked her little hands onto his cheeks and proclaimed that Stiles was really weird, before she squirmed out of his grip and ran to Laura who was on the porch.

Stiles chuckled to himself and got back in the car where Derek hadn’t even moved from his seat. Derek was looking out at Laura, who had Charlie wrapped up in a hug, one hand tugging on her little curls. Tapping fingers broke his gaze, and he turned to Stiles, giving him the address without clarifying anything else.

When the two pulled up to a tattoo shop, Stiles was surprised to say the least.

“I thought you said you had an appointment?”

“I do.” Derek stated simply, “Just not for the doctor for once. Anyway, Dr. Burns said that if I wanted to do anything ‘foolish like get a tattoo’, I should probably do it now.” He was fidgeting under Stiles’ gaze and abruptly exited the car. Derek came around and pulled Stiles from his seat, dragging him out of the car and up to the door before speaking in a small voice.

“I just don’t want to do this alone,” he paused, “and I really couldn’t think of anyone I would rather have hold my hand as I get a tattoo so…” 

Derek trailed off and could feel a wicked blush come up on the back of his neck. He cringed when he figured Stiles could definitely see it curling up to his ears.

He pulled him inside and up to the counter where a well inked man was sitting at a computer. 

“Hey Jason,” Derek greeted, “I got a two-thirty with Drew for my back?”

“Derek right? Yeah you can head on back and your friend is welcome too as long as he stays out of the way.” The man was intimidating and had a southern twang to his voice that you didn’t come across very often in Beacon Hills. He ended his sentence with a wink which caused Derek to burst out laughing while Stiles just gaped.

Derek lead the way to the back room, and knocked twice on the door before making his way inside. There was a tall man facing away from them, with his arms spread on a table looking down at whatever the contents were. 

“Derek,” he exclaimed, “you ready son?” Stiles was shocked when the man, Drew, turned around. He was probably in his mid-forties, and his bleached white hair was cropped military style. Drew’s eyes were shining, bright blue, and they didn’t reflect his age at all, looking more like an excited child than anything else. His septum was pierced with a tribal ring that looked something like an inverted crown.

Seeing the confusion on Stiles’ face, Derek cleared some things up. “Drew was a good friend of my Dad’s and used to tell me that he would always have a chair open for me when I decided to finally get something done. He was sure that it was inevitable and apparently he was right. He hasn’t shut up about it since I came into the shop a few weeks ago to talk through some sketches and ideas.”

Drew pulled Derek over to the table to talk over the drawing one last time before leaving the room to make up a stencil.

That left Stiles to watch as Derek whipped off his shirt and sat on the chair, leaning his stomach against the backrest, keeping his back exposed. Stiles shook his head clear of any compromising thoughts including Derek and being half dressed.

“C’mere Stiles,” Derek called him over quietly, pushing up with his arms to lift off the chair a bit. 

Stiles moved across the room and kneeled down on the floor next to Derek, making his head a little lower than Derek’s own when he rested on his heels. Derek pulled him up into a kiss that Stiles couldn’t resist.

It was surreal. For weeks now Derek and Stiles had shared hundreds of kisses and hugs, and cuddles, and whatever other means of affection they came upon. It never got any less shocking, and each kiss was better than the last. 

Stiles ran his tongue along Derek’s bottom lip and immediately got the response he was hoping for. The taste of Derek was an excruciating turn on for him and he couldn’t get enough as he licked into his mouth. He reached up and placed a hand on the column of Derek’s neck. Stiles could feel the tendons of it flexing, and ran flighty fingers over the veins he could feel pressing tightly against the skin. 

Derek twisted in the seat so he could cup the back of Stiles’ head. He loved the feel of holding Stiles to him, keeping him close in the kiss. He rubbed his thumb against the shaved hair. The sensation sent tingles down Stiles’ spine and Derek loved the feel of the buzzcut under his hand.

The couple was lost in it, the kiss. It was so simple and it never failed to sweep them from the hideous reality they were living. It was the perfect distraction, but it was interrupted by the clearing of a throat. 

Derek nearly fell out of the chair, while Stiles lost his balance and fell flat onto his back. He was sprawled on the floor and finally looked to see an upside down Drew standing in the doorway with a smirk plastered on his face.

“Well it’s about damn time my man,” he joked. “You’ve been going on about this kid for, damn, I don-”

“Okay Drew,” Derek croaked out, completely red with embarrassment. It was a split between the fact that Drew had caught him and Stiles nearly making out, and that the man had basically made it known that Derek had been pining after Stiles for a good while. 

“How about we just get started yeah?” 

Stiles collected himself, and made his way to a stool which he pulled up next to the chair. Derek had lowered back down to the chair and his face was pressed against the cool fabric. A soft look graced Derek’s face, “If not now, then when right?”

Drew got himself in a comfortable position and pressed the template to Derek’s skin which left a stain on his skin when it was pulled away. 

Stiles wasn’t the biggest fan of needles so he grabbed Derek’s hand and put his head down on the chair right next to Derek’s, so close that their noses were barely brushing.

“Will it hurt?” he whispered, and Derek laughed. 

“Why does it matter?” 

Stiles swallowed, and his eyes flitted to the artist readying the needle. 

“Needles, man. Needles!”

“I’ll be fine,” Derek’s eyes shined, squeezing Stiles’ hand. “That’s why I have you.”

Drew tapped Derek’s leg, letting him know he was going to start. When the needle hit the skin between Derek’s shoulders he let out a hiss. His muscles all simultaneously clenched and relaxed in that split second, the only thing that was steady was the grip on Stiles’ hand. 

Over the hours that Derek sat in the chair, he could feel the pinches of the needle against his skin in a rhythmic, fast paced pattern. Stiles occasionally closed the few inches between them to give him a quick peck on the lips. At other moments he massaged Derek’s wrist and hand between his thumb and forefinger.

When the machine switched off Derek tested out his muscles. Having sat still for such a long period of time, he was kind of worried that something would have tensed up by then. He started with his neck and went downward, rolling his shoulders, flexing his biceps and wiggling his fingers. He stretched his ankles and bent his knees, and wiggled his hips when he was sure Stiles was watching, just to hear his laugh.

He felt Drew wipe down the skin where the fresh ink had been lain, soon it was covered by a patch of gauze and Derek was shrugging his shirt back on with a little help from Stiles. Drew told him to make sure to keep the area hydrated and clean, also telling Derek to change the gauze that night and when he woke the next morning. 

Derek was careful not to lean back in the seat when he and Stiles got back in the car. He kissed Stiles with the promise to call him the next day when they pulled up to the Hale house yet again, and crashed through the door up to Peter's room.

“I need your help,” he stated firmly, looking to where Peter sat on the bed with his laptop. His uncle looked up from the screen with an arched eyebrow. A mischievous grin broke out on his face.

“And what kind of help would that be, my dear nephew?” he inquired sweetly, a glimmer in his eye. Derek was already regretting his decision of coming to his mother’s brother. 

Derek shifted on his feet, looking at the floor, before moving his eyes to the ceiling and the pictures on the walls. 

“I… uh…” he stuttered, flushing lightly. 

“Yes?” the older man prompted, his grin growing wider by the minute. Peter liked making trouble, and seized any opportunity to do it. He saw the anxious look on Derek’s face and just knew this was going to be a good one. 

“I got a tattoo at Drew's. It's on my back and I need help with the maintenance.” He said it firmly, without hesitation or shame. He knew that he had taken a big step and he didn’t regret it. Derek did his best to use his “and there’s nothing you can do about it” tone, though with Peter it was unnecessary.

“Really?” Peter hummed, his smile turning smug. “Well chop chop, go on, show it to me.” 

Derek sighed deeply, shuffling his feet a bit shyly. He pulled his shirt over his head, wincing a bit. 

“Let’s go to the bathroom to get a better look at this puppy,” Peter suggested, moving past Derek, flicking the side of his head. 

Derek followed him into the bathroom and leaned his elbows on the counter, cupping his face in his hands. He was starting to regret coming to ask his uncle for help.

Peter stood behind him and peeled the gauze from the skin, slowly revealing the art on Derek's back. 

When the tattoo was uncovered completely, saturated gauze in the trash, Peter couldn't help but chuckle at the sight of the ink.

“What?” Derek asked indignantly, looking back over his shoulder to glare at his uncle. 

Peter held his hands up in mock-surrender, a large smile on his face. 

“I didn’t say anything,” he laughed. 

“Just clean the fucking tattoo.” 

Making their way over to the shower, Derek stepped in, jeans and all. He could survive a wet pair of pants if that preserved his modesty to his uncle. Peter rolled his eyes. 

“I’ve seen you naked before,” he reminded his nephew, stepping in behind him. 

“Yes, and I’d really like to not relive the experience.”

Peter laughed and Derek cracked a small smile, letting his shoulders relax. Turning the shower head on, Peter turned the setting to “mist”, letting the water turn room temperature. Derek sighed thankfully as the lukewarm water gently hit his back, and Peter’s hand began to gently wash away the excess blood and ointment off his back. 

“I wanted to make things permanent,” he stated suddenly, not looking up from the tiles of the shower. 

“Hm?” Peter hummed, urging him on. 

“I wanted - want - to make things real. Make them constant. I’m dying, Peter, and there are very few good things in my life at the moment, and things are only going to get worse. So I want it to be permanent - the good that is. So Stiles, Charlie, all the good things I have right now, is something that I’ll always have. Past, present, future, the good is here and now and it’ll stay where it is, no matter what. It’ll damn well follow me wherever I go.” 

The shower was switched off and Derek dripped on one towel while Peter pressed the other to his back, dabbing the sensitive skin. He put more of the antibacterial cream on the tattoo, running two fingers along the curves of the triskelion, and covered it back up with a fresh bandage.

He spun Derek to face him and clamped his hands to his nephew's shoulders. 

"You really like this kid don't you." Peter gaped, more of a statement than a question.

Derek ducked his head down, hiding a blush that bloomed across his cheeks. He snuck a look at Peter, embarrassed at the emotional conversation. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to talk about it, hell he would scream how he felt from the rooftops if he could only figure out how to say it.

He could feel a tremor in his leg. Derek bent over and pressed a hand just above his knee where he could feel the muscle shaking. This was a recent addition to the effects he was experiencing with the disease. It had started in the past few days. They only lasted for around a minute, but that was long enough for him to recognize them as another problem.

“Derek?” Peter placed a hand on his shoulder, crouching to see his nephew’s face.

Derek’s eyes were wild, but he remembered what Peter had said moments before.

“Yeah Peter, I really do.”


	8. Turning Page

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Christmas shopping with the family!!
> 
> I'm not sure if I mentioned this but each chapter title is actually the title of a song so you should definitely go back and check those out, and listen to [this](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O3rtC29oH6M) while you read this chapter.
> 
> Also I'm so so sorry for the delay, a lot has been happening in life lately, but I'll try to update on time in the upcoming weeks.

It was closing in on Christmas when Stiles was faced with setting a date for his surgery, having agreed with his doctor that it was the best thing to do. He was scheduled to go under the knife on January 6th. Frankly he was terrified. His voice was what gave him a presence in a room, but he could never choose that over the chance to have more time with his dad, and with Derek.

He had been working on his ASL with both Derek, and Charlie, and he was almost ashamed to say that Charlie was coming along much better than Derek and even him. She absorbed the information like a sponge, taking it all in and storing it away before spitting it back out like she’d been doing it her entire life.

One afternoon, Stiles and Derek walked into the Stilinski house to see Charlie and the sheriff using total sign language, communicating in complete silence. The couple had left Charlie with Sheriff while they went out to lunch. Stiles knew his dad already loved her, even with limited exposure to the little girl.

But needless to say, Derek and Stiles were frozen where they stood, jaws hitting the ground. Stiles didn't even know that his dad knew sign language at all, let alone that he had the ability to fully converse in it.

Ever since then Stiles and Derek would catch Sheriff Stilinski and his four year old sidekick having secret conversations whenever they were together. Apparently Stiles' dad had taken a few ASL courses in college so all he had to do was a little review before he was back in action. And shockingly enough, Charlie was an absolute natural, blowing the Hale family away.

Derek couldn't help the happy ache in his heart when he saw his little girl and Sheriff fooling around in the living room. Charlie would sit in his lap, facing the man, and stare at his hands while he taught her something new. The man would wait for his new little friend to try it herself and patiently correct her positioning until she got it right.

Today though, when Stiles came through the door he found his father, Derek, and little Charlie all sat in the living room. His dad was on the couch reading the paper, feet propped on the table, and Derek had settled in the other corner of the couch. He had his legs bent at the knee and Charlie was in the same position only on top of Derek. The munchkin's back was against Derek's legs and her little feet were pressed to his chest.

At the sight of Stiles, Charlie flailed to get to him, planting a foot straight into Derek's face. When she was finally free and Derek was rubbing his nose, she ran to Stiles, actually she ran into Stiles and wrapped his legs in a hug.

"Well hello to you too my love," Stiles laughed, carding a hand through the little angel's hair. She pulled herself away from him quickly, shaking out her hands before breaking into a smile that filled her face with joy.

"'Tiles watch this!" Charlie slowly started contorting her hands in what Stiles noticed to be practiced motions. Stiles picked out his own name spelt out with the basic lettering and a couple numbers. There were a few signs she made that he didn't quite understand, but it wasn't because she wasn't doing them right, Stiles just didn't know them.

"Well?" The girl cocked her head and placed her hands on her hips.

Stiles crouched down after taking a glance at Derek and his dad who were both avidly watching with matching looks of pride that only a father mastered.

"That was really good sweetie." His voice was a bit raspy. "I saw my name and the number twelve, what else?"

"I said," Charlie spoke, stretching out the second word, "'tiles, there's only twelve days till Christmas!"

That was about all he got out of her before she ran back to Derek, jumping right on top of him. "Twelve days till Christmas Da-Dee-Dee."

Derek was pretty sure he stopped breathing. He was also pretty sure that Charlie almost just called him dad or daddy or whatever, but he's pretty sure that almost happened.

At the same time two short gasps were heard around him as well. Both Stiles and the Sheriff were put into shock. Stiles more so because he knew how much Derek would love to have Charlie call him her dad. That's what Derek saw himself as, and was curious if his little girl thought the same thing.

Derek somewhat deflated at the fact that she didn't actually say it, but he wouldn't push the girl. If she felt that way then she would say it eventually. He just settled for wrapping his arms around her and cuddling her into his chest.

"I know baby, we have to decorate the tree at home and buy some presents."

A smile threatened to crack her face in two, and she couldn't help but wiggle excitedly.

“Decorating the tree!” she exclaimed with a grin. “Yes!” Turning her eyes up to Derek, Charlie unleashed her puppy eyes on him. “Will you help me wrap presents?”

Stiles rolled his eyes at the sight of Derek melting before the girl, but couldn't help but grin at the sight of the two.

"Of course," Derek smiled earnestly, ruffling her hair gently.

"Yay!" she exclaimed, clapping her hands happily. "Wait... Dee Dee I don't have presents yet!"

Everyone laughed at the distraught look on her face as the thought hit her, and the Sheriff found himself glad to have a child in the house again. He actually found himself glad for a lot of things lately, grateful for the little happy moments like these. Looking at how Derek had a hard time making his way around a pencil, and the sight of Stiles' blood stained jeans in the laundry, John knew there wouldn't be many happy times left. Things would get very hard very fast, and the Sheriff hoped they could all make it through with limited damage. Pushing back his grim thoughts, he stood smiling.

"Why don't we go now? I'll be honest, I have to make a few last minute gift trips, too, and Stiles' mother and I had a tradition of buying a new ornament every year for Stiles. Maybe we can continue that with Charlie."

"Oh, could we really?" She inquired giddily, wiggling out of Derek's grasp and running over to the Sheriff, happily pulling on his pant leg. "Could we all? Let's go Christ'as shopping!"

Derek and Stiles looked to each other knowingly, warm smiles spread across their faces. Stiles reached out, grasping Derek's hand and squeezed it firmly. Life was good, as of now, and Charlie was happy - they were happy. Derek was in awe with the fact that even as his life was slowly spiralling down in a circle, he could still be happy.

"Something wrong?" Stiles asked quietly as his dad got Charlie ready for the trip out, bundling her up in her winter coat and boots.

"What?" he hummed distractedly, turning his gaze from some far off point in the distance. "Nothing. It's just... everything seems okay. More than okay, maybe."

Humming gently, Stiles squeezed his hand again before standing, walking over to the side of the couch. He picked up Derek's boots and leather jacket, slipping his sneakers on along the way.

"Here," he said softly, placing the boots besides Derek's feet. Looking him in the eye he said, "Everything is okay, Derek. And it's okay for things to be that way, especially now."

Kissing Derek lightly on the lips, he walked away, gathering his coat and sliding it over his shoulders.

"Yeah," Derek mused, lacing his boots and buttoning his jacket.

"Dee Dee, come on!" Charlie called from just outside the door.

"Everything is okay."

•••

"-an' then I'll get Uncle Peter a Flynn doll because me an' Ethan and Aiden think he looks like him, and I'll get Daddy a- Oops!"

It ended up being that the entire family needed to get some shopping done so the mall was now filled with the dispersed Stilinski and Hale crew. Derek had split off with Laura, Cora with the sheriff, and Talia and Peter with the twins. That left Stiles and Charlie to their own whim. The little girl was dragging Stiles through the stores, tiny hand clenched in his. At least that was the case until that last sentence came out of her mouth.

Charlie had come to a stop as soon as she realized what she said, looking up at Stiles with an unsure expression on her face.

Stiles crouched down after steering her down an unoccupied aisle. Her unsure expression turned wary, and slightly scared.

“You’re not in trouble, Charles,” he laughed softly, poking lightly at her cheek. Sighing, he sobered. “Do you wanna call Derek ‘Daddy’, Charlie?”

Biting her lip, she nodded furiously, blinking harshly at the tears in her eyes. She rubbed madly at her face, trying to hide the fact that she was crying.

“Yeah,” she mumbled, looking down.

Pulling her close, Stiles kissed her temple. Wiping away at a lone tear on her face, he lifted her chin to look at him.

“Derek would love for you to call him ‘Daddy’, baby.”

Sniffling, she regarded him with wide eyes.

“Really?”

“Of course!” Stiles smiled, hefting her into his arms as he stood. “I say you do something to surprise him.”

Walking back out into the chaos of the mall, Charlie looked and felt much better. The only evidence left of her tears was a slight sniffle.

“How, how, how?” she asked excitedly, bouncing slightly in Stiles’ arms.

“Well, how about that's your gift to him? We can find something to decorate,” he suggested, walking up to an Auntie Anne’s. “Wanna share a pretzel?”

“Mhmm,” she hummed, before nodding happily. “Yeah! That’s a good idea! Imma do that, but -” suddenly she became unsure. “Will you help me write it?”

"Of course I will!" He knew that this would definitely make Derek's Christmas. He was constantly catching Derek looking at her out of the corner of his eye, and a little smile would always make its way onto his face. Even without the little things he knew that Derek was completely gone on her.

Charlie shifted in his grip and wrapped her tiny arms around his neck and pressed a sloppy kiss to the skin, "Thanks Stiles."

The duo ate their pretzels and got almost all of their gifts, Stiles finally coming up with the perfect one for Derek. They strolled through the mall and looked into some of the weird and interesting stores and came across Laura and Derek.

“Hey guys!” Laura called, waving her arms in the air to catch their attention. They were in Barnes & Noble, and Stiles saw Derek deliberating over a small stack of books.

“Hey, Laura, what’s up?” he asked, not bothering to disturb Derek while he was in _the zone_.

“Well,” she sighed obnoxiously, hands on her hips. “We originally came here to get Mom her gift but _someone_ just had to go looking for themselves!”

Derek waved her off noncommittally, grunting his acknowledgement of her words. Stiles and Charlie giggled, the former rolling his eyes at the sibling's antics. Once they sobered, Charlie frowned. Tugging on Stiles’ hand, she pouted.

“Stiles, I’m hungry,” she whined, wiggling and kicking her feet.

“But we just shared a pretzel!” he exclaimed.

“I’m still hungry!”

Taking sympathy on Stiles’ poor soul, Laura stepped in.

“I’m feeling a little hungry myself. Why don’t I take her to get lunch while you and Derek finish up getting whatever you guys need to get,” she suggested, taking Charlie’s hand. Stiles figured it sounded like an offer, but who was he kidding.

The girls went their separate way and Stiles walked over to Derek, wrapping his arms around him from behind and kissing the back of his neck. He could feel Derek relax in his embrace.

"I can finally go get Laura's present now," he said with a smile in his voice. "She's been over my shoulder for hours."

He put his hands over Stiles' own, taking himself out of his grip. He pulled Stiles behind him, abandoning the pile of books that had been on the table, and led him upstairs. The pair went all over the entire store grabbing the classics, _The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes, The Picture of Dorian Gray,_ and _The Scarlet Letter_.

Laura always bashed Derek about how much he read all the time but he knew that secretly she was just as bad as him.

When they were walking out he caught Stiles trying to sneak a peek into his bags. Derek caught Stiles' gaze and gave him a lazy glare, switching the bags to his other hand. With his hand now free he ran his fingertips across Stiles' palm and linked their hands together. He brought their hands up, fingers intertwined, to his lips and pressed a short kiss to where their hands met.

"Charlie next?" He asked, knowing that she was the last one he needed to buy something for. He remembered when he, Stiles, and Charlie went to the toy store before and Stiles mentioned how she had wanted some special teddy.

“Yup!” Stiles smiled cheerfully, pulling him through the hoards of people bustling through the mall. “Let’s hope what we want to get her is still there.”

“You mentioned something about a teddy, right?” Derek reaffirmed as they entered the store. Looking around themselves they froze.

The toy store was filled to the brim with parents and their children. It was absolute chaos - kids were wailing, some wept, howling _”Mommy please! Can I have it please?”_ , and there was the rare few cowering behind their parents’ legs, shying away from cooing employees. Stiles and Derek shared a horrified look.

“So… still think that teddy is there?” Derek asked cautiously, casting a wary look across the store.

Leveling the chaos around them with a determined glare, Stiles pulled Derek in the direction of the _Stuffed Toys_ section. “It better be,” he stated darkly, vowing that he would get Charlie her teddy, and that was that.

As they approached the display, Stiles saw it. He felt his heart drop to his stomach as he saw the "may I speak to the manager" haircut bob through the wave of people moving directly towards the teddy display.

"Oh hell no," he muttered, releasing Derek's hand and charging towards the bear. He plowed through the hoard of people, pushing through parents and tripping over kids.

Lunging towards the bear, he saw her. As she outstretched her hand, he made his move. Throwing himself, he hip checked her so hard that he felt her legs sweep out from underneath her.

"Ha!" he crowed, lifting the bear above his head like a trophy. "Who's the winner? I'm the winner!"

Doing a little dance, he happily wiggled his way over to where Derek stood in the corner. Derek was baffled to say the least, jaw slack and eyes wide.

"You just mowed down some mom for a teddy bear," Derek snorted, shock being replaced by laughter. Stiles fitted him with a blank, though amused, look and started pulling him again towards the register to check out with their victorious prize.

The cashier was a girl around their age. Both Derek and Stiles were actually surprised to not know her. She took the bear off the belt to scan it and asked Stiles who it was for.

"My ki-" Stiles cut himself off, refusing to look in Derek's direction. He knew what he wanted to say, hell, he almost said it. It occurred to Stiles that it really didn't matter the outcome because that was how he felt, and there really was no turning back.

"It's for my kid."

They had ignored it on the way back to the Hale house and ignored it when everyone was relaxing on the couch after dinner. Derek wanted to say something, anything, but he couldn't come up with the right words. It made no sense.

Stiles was staying overnight, the sheriff departing after a few episodes of Dirty Jobs. Derek wondered if he and Stiles would have this many freedoms if they were healthy. He could guess the answer would be a no, but he wouldn't change anything for what they had right now.

They moved to Derek’s bedroom after putting Charlie to bed and reading her yet another version of Red Riding Hood. Stiles seemed to have fallen in sync with Derek, moving fluidly around each other in the space of the room.

Climbing into bed, Stiles shifted uneasily. Things were starting to hit him, and hard. All of a sudden this _thing_ seemed to need to be called something else. Something more permanent. Moving his gaze to Derek, Stiles saw that he was pulling his gray henley over his head. Derek's movements were jerky - he had to concentrate at moving one arm at a time in sharp, stiff movements.

Sometimes Stiles could forget all the things that were going wrong in all of the good moments. He forgets things like the fact that Derek can barely write anymore, his letters sharp and rigid, made in stilted movements. Or the fact that bending down and then tying his shoes is not only painful but _hard_. All of a sudden Stiles feels like he's losing. He's going to lose.

"Oh," he breathed, feeling a sharp pang in his chest as he caught sight of Derek turning. His back was towards Stiles and he thought back to what felt like a lifetime ago when Derek had asked him to be there when he got his tattoo. He couldn't believe that after such time he hadn't actually laid eyes on it until right then.

He swung his legs over the edge of the bed, softly making his way over to Derek who had busied himself looking for clothes for the next day. When he got close enough he placed a light hand just above the band of Derek's boxers. With the other hand he touched the center of the spirals on Derek's back with careful fingers.

Derek drew in a sharp breath, simultaneously tensing and relaxing at the touch. It slipped from his mind that Stiles hasn't seen his tattoo and he hadn't really worried about it or what it meant for a long time.

Stiles traced along the ink and saw the swirling letters at the end of two of the three arms of the triskele. One was adorned with a C and the other marked with an S.

"I..." Stiles trailed off, speechless. He tried to find the words to express himself, but for once, he was was a loss. "Is that?" he wondered out loud, his fingers skimming over the S. He felt Derek take a deep breath in before letting it out harshly.

"Yeah," he whispered, turning to grab ahold of Stiles' fingers and bring them to his chest, right over his heart.

Stiles took a step closer, keeping his gaze on his and Derek's hands as he spoke.

"Derek... What are we?" he wondered, watching his thin fingers twitch between Derek's.

Derek wanted to shy away - conversations like this never ended happily - but he knew that they would have to talk about it either way, whether it be sooner rather than later.

"You called Charlie your kid."

Stiles peeked up through his lashes, a blush lightly dusting his cheeks.

"Yeah."

He hadn't really thought about it until he was in the moment and found the words right in his mouth, almost coming out before he stopped them. It was as if all the feelings he had for her that couldn't be placed all of a sudden fell into their place.

"What does _that_ mean?" And Derek could see the frustration blooming on Stiles' face, but he just couldn't help but ask. This wasn't something that could be ignored or danced around. It was important. Everything banked on this very moment.

"It's just-" All of a sudden Stiles was angry.

"I love her, okay! And for God's fucking sake I love you too! There! I said it! I'm that idiot that says it first, the one that cares too much - are you happy now? You two wiggled your way into my heart deeper than I ever imagined and I could say that you're all that I'm gonna get, that we're all each other are ever going to have, but that doesn't even matter. Derek, you and her are all that I want and now I can't imagine my life without you and I'm scared because I just might have to."

Somewhere in the middle of it all Stiles' voice went weak. He felt cracked and broken, like the floodgates were hit and everything came crashing out. And he wanted to cry, he really did, but for some reason the tears wouldn't come, and he felt even _angrier_ because his tears showed what he couldn't say, all the things he felt that didn't have words attached to them and it wasn't _fair_. Crying would let it out, but he'd spent so long forcing it down, pretending it didn't exist, and his eyes couldn't keep up with his mind and it was all _too much_.

"Stiles," Derek began, not really knowing what to say. He was never good with his words. Laura knew so it was never a problem having a conversation with her because she could understand everything he wanted to say without even saying it. But Stiles wasn't Laura, and it wasn't fair to ask him to be - it wouldn't be fair to Derek either.

He drew Stiles in against his chest using the hand that was already held there. Stiles' free arm curled around Derek's waist. He must have taken too long to say anything because he watched as Stiles' gaze went fearful.

"I - I shouldn't have said anything," he wailed into Derek's chest, heaving dry sobs that hurt his throat. Blood was welling in his mouth and he was trying so hard not to cough and spit, and everything felt so _raw_. Swallowing hurt, and his throat itched, and all he wanted to do was claw at the peeling skin of his neck but he could only hold Derek closer instead.

"We were fine the way we were, we were happy, I fucked up, shit I fucking fucked up I shouldn't have said anything, I should have just kept going, just gone to sleep I always fuck things up-"

Derek cut him off with a kiss. He was surprised by the hint of blood he tasted on Stiles' lips, but it didn't stop him. The kiss bought him some time, he knew what he wanted, he just needed Stiles to know too.

Their lips parted and Derek rested his forehead against Stiles'.

"I want this," he breathed, eyes closed. "I want this; I want you. I want to be your boyfriend, your partner, or whatever the hell you want me to be called. I don't keep you around because you're 'convenient'. I keep you around because I'm pretty sure somewhere along the line I fell in love with you too."

Stiles thought for a moment, looking up at Derek with loving eyes.

"We can just be us, together."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you wanna check out what I envisioned the tattoo to look like check out [my tumblr post](http://hisvoicebrokemyheart.tumblr.com/post/146532121319/just-posted-chapter-eight-of-my-fic-saturn-on)!!
> 
> And of course let me know what y'all thought of the chapter, I would love some feedback!


	9. Hallelujah

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We just had one of the hottest days of the year, but it's Christmas for Stiles, Derek, and the whole fam!!
> 
> I hope y'all enjoy this one, there's quite a bit left to come.
> 
> Chapter title is Hallelujah sang by Jeff Buckley

Derek gets woken up by the repeated press of a singular tiny finger in his back and he decides that he's never had a better morning in his life. His arms were wrapped tight around Stiles who had found his way right up against Derek's chest, their legs were linked together, and his little girl was climbing into bed behind him to wrap her arms around him mimicking how he was holding his boyfriend.

"Psst," she whispered loudly in his ear, wiggling herself a little closer. "Psst"

He smiled into Stiles' ear, but didn't move. He could feel her getting more and more impatient, and eventually the pretense of whispering dropped. 

"Come on," she whined, dragging the last syllable into eternity. 

Chuckling, he finally turned to face her. Derek was glad Charlie was aware enough to know not to jump on him anymore. 

"Yes, princess?" he asked with a smirk, knowing full well what she was going to say. 

"It's Christmas!" she exclaimed with a roll of her eyes. "Let's go!"

Wiggling herself over him, Charlie made her way over to Stiles, deeming Derek a lost cause. Somehow, he had remained oblivious, even through her loud whining. Derek admired his dedication to sleep. 

"'Tiles!" she bounced on him, shaking his shoulders. "Come on, 'Tiles, it's Christmas! Time. To. Get. Up," she enunciated each of her words with a bounce, making the last one extra hard, just for him. 

She bounced some more, poking at his face. Derek could see Stiles smiling, and he knew that she had won this round. 

"Okay, okay! I'm up, I'm up!" he laughed, grabbing her by her tiny waist. He pulled her down onto the sheets and laughed joyfully as she squealed. He tickled at her sides until she was breathless with laughter before flopping back onto his side. 

"You have to help Dee Dee out of bed," Charlie said after a few moments of peaceful silence. 

"I know, baby," Stiles smiled weakly, and moved to get up. 

Charlie popped up from the bed, ran out of the room, and down the stairs. Stiles let out a small bit of laughter, she was probably wrapped up in herself on the corner of the couch just staring at the twinkling lights of the tree.

It had been about a week since the two cleared the air and made their relationship a more serious commitment, and Stiles had stayed over with Derek a majority of those days. 

He crawled over Derek and stood at the end of the bed. Derek was still mobile and he could still walk and perform normal functions, but getting out of bed was hard, and Stiles could bet that if he wasn't there Derek would be stubborn enough to not ask for help. It's just that after sleeping in the same position for so many hours it was very difficult for Derek to get moving. His body got very stiff.

So slowly the routine of a simple, yet thorough, body massage fell into place. Stiles would take residence on top of or beside Derek and work the muscles of his back and his quads to a point until Derek was loose enough to sit up with his legs hanging over the edge of the bed, feet touching the floor. Then Stiles would move to sit on Derek's lap, wrapping his legs around his midsection, and sooth one arm at a time. He made sure to hit all of the points of pressure he could remember. 

When Stiles was done he went to stand up, but Derek caught him around the waist and held him in place. He tucked his face into Stiles' neck, gently kissing the skin there.

"Thank you."

Stiles' breath caught, every once in awhile it hit him that all of this was his. 

"It's nothing Derek really, I want to do this for you." He sealed his statement with a kiss and detached himself from Derek successfully this time. They split, both putting on a pair of flannels, and came back together to intertwine their fingers and head downstairs. They were greeted with the sight of Charlie running around. 

"There are presents un'neath the twee!" Charlie sing-songed, twirling around in her baby blue pajama dress, tripping lightly on the hem. "The Christ'as twee!"

Stiles and Derek laughed at the sight, their hearts warming as they saw the entire Hale family and the Sheriff mulling around in their pajamas. 

“Hey, Dad,” Stiles greeted, pulling Derek along as he entered the living room. “When did you get here?” 

Sheriff Stilinski looked up from his morning paper. He had been waiting patiently on the couch by the tree, knowing that it would just be easier to sit and wait for everyone to come around. Laura was sitting beside him, an overfilled bowl of cereal in her hands. 

“About an hour ago,” he replied, returning back to the sports section. 

“Oh -” Stiles was about to reply, but Charlie cut in, making a running tackle towards his legs. 

“Is it present time?” she asked eagerly, looking around at everyone in the room, her eyes darting to the piles of neatly wrapped gifts beneath the tree. “‘T’s present time right? Everyone’s up now, so it’s present time!”

"Sure baby why don't you go find Uncle Peter and Mima and then we'll start okay?"

In what seemed like thirty seconds flat Charlie left and returned with both Peter and Talia in tow. She walked the both of the right up to the couch before turning to Derek, placing her hands on her hips and tilting her head with a look that screamed _how about now?_

The look spurred everyone into action. The sheriff and Talia went up to the tree grabbing a present marked for each person. When everyone settled in their seats again, present in hand, they peered around trying to pick someone to go first. Laura took the plunge and tore into her gift revealing the three classic novels Derek and Stiles had picked for her. She was followed by Peter opening a plush doll that he was pretty sure was from some Disney princess movie.

Sheriff unwrapped a case that held a pair of aviator sunglasses at which the sight of them caused Stiles and Laura to burst out laughing. 

"Right because I'm a cop. Aviators. Funny," he deadpanned, which just made Stiles laugh harder. He cut off quickly with a sharp cough wracking through his body. Derek shot out of his seat, tossing his wrapped gift on the couch, and knelt in front of Stiles who was hunched over holding his knees.

Blood flew from his mouth, dripping through his fingers as they came up to cover his mouth and falling onto his pants, staining the blue plaid. A scratching pain raked up his throat, and Stiles could barely feel Derek's palm moving in soothing circles on his back. 

"Stiles," the sheriff urged, kneeling beside his son. "Stiles, you need to try to stop coughing so hard; it's only making it worse."

Stiles only wheezed in response, another retching cough wracking his body. Usually the blood came in small dots smattering his palm, but this time there was so much that it mixed with his spit and dripped from his lips in large drops, staining his teeth red. 

Derek stood and scooped Stiles up bridal style with what strength he could muster, legs nearly buckling. Charlie followed Derek out of the room with wide eyes and repeatedly asked if Stiles was alright. When Derek jerkily placed him on the floor in the kitchen, back against the wall, he turned to Charlie.

"Stiles is gonna be fine sweetie, go sit with Laura and we'll finish presents in a little bit okay? I just have to help Stiles clean up a little."

With a resolute nod she left the room, padding back to where the rest of the family remained. He grabbed a dish towel from the cabinet and ran it under some warm water, filling a glass as well, before making his way back to Stiles. Without saying anything he reached out to wipe at the blood staining Stiles' face and hands

"Drink," he whispered, holding out the glass of water for Stiles to take. The first sip wasn't pleasant, tasting metallic and of blood, but it soothed the sting in his throat from coughing.

Reaching into the cabinet, Derek pulled out a little honey spoon lollipop and handed it to Stiles sheepishly. Stiles laughed scornfully, looking bitterly at the smiling bee on the wrapper. 

"She said I'll still have throat problems after the surgery," he mused, twirling the stick between his fingers. "I'll have no voice, a fucked up throat, and a scar." 

He let out another hollow laugh. 

"We really do make a pair, don't we? A mutilated mute and an epileptic JHD patient. A little family all our own." He angrily ripped the wrapper off the spoon and shoved the candy in his mouth. The hardened honey clacked against his teeth and he bit down so hard on the stick, Derek thought he might bite it off. 

Derek didn't really have much to say about that. Silently, he wet a hand towel and dutifully dabbed at the bloodstains on Stiles' shirt. His pants weren't salvageable. A few minutes passed in silence before he spoke. 

"You can't keep getting angry every time one of us shows a symptom of our disease, Stiles," he stated quietly, not looking up from his work. "Or you'll never have a moment of peace." 

“I’m just so tired of all the blood and the pain and dammit I’m scratching through my skin I’m so desperate to get rid of this itch in my throat.”

Derek heard defeat in his voice and honestly, it was terrifying.

"You only have about two weeks till the surgery Stiles," he murmured, leaning in to wrap his arms around Stiles and kiss his neck where there were violent red scratches. "Then after that you should end up in remission, and voice or no voice you'll be healthy again."

Stiles sighed and pulled Derek closer before standing. He looked down at himself, and hated the fact that having blood on his shirt wasn't something new. Derek reached out and grabbed his hand, pulling him to the stairs. His hand shook. Stiles hated that too. 

When they entered Derek's - practically their - room, Stiles stopped in the doorway. Derek just glanced at him before continuing on. 

"Does white work?" he asked quietly, holding up an undershirt hesitantly. Stiles smiled softly, walking further into the room. 

"Yeah," he sighed, pulling his stained shirt over his head. He pulled his pants down and wiggled his eyebrows at Derek jokingly. Derek laughed, and all of a sudden the room felt lighter. He threw a pair of sweatpants at Stiles' head with loud laugh. 

"Put some pants on, you bum!" 

Stiles barked a laugh, kicking his ruined pants away. He pulled on the sweats and walked to the door. 

"Come on. It's Christmas!" 

Derek smiled, grabbing Stiles' hand as he passed by. They closed the door, and the bloodstained clothes stayed on the floor, ignored until next time. 

Charlie was waiting for them at the bottom of the stairs. She clutched a wrapped present in her arms.

"I waited for you, come on!" She squealed, running back into the living room. Stiles headed down the stairs first, Derek holding his shoulder to steady himself as he went down behind him. 

There was shredded wrapping paper and various pieces of boxes all around the room, the rest of the family enamoured with their new things. A neat pile of gifts was stacked on the coffee table, Talia telling them that it was all just Derek, Stiles, and Charlie left to go. 

Charlie tore into the gift she had been holding, Stiles peeled strips off of a rectangular shaped item, and Derek neatly pulled the tape from the paper leaving it in one solid piece on the floor. He was met with the sight of a new laptop and went to protest it's use because his first thought was that he would be able to type much longer anyway. Laura cut him off at the start, "It's voice controlled, almost completely anyway. We set up some simple commands and actions that it'll follow. It's kind of like the same software that a blind person would use if they wanted to, with a key phrase to get the microphone to turn on." 

Derek's jaw had dropped and Stiles had discarded his still hidden gift to an empty spot next to him and wrapped Derek in a hug from the side. He kissed his cheek and nipped at Derek’s ear before whispering, “I have a gift to go with that upstairs.” 

Derek nuzzled into Stiles’ neck before pulling back to look at Charlie who was holding up the special teddy he and Stiles had found for her in awe. All of a sudden the bear was on the ground and a present was thrust into Derek's face by two little hands.

"Please, open this now, please," she pleaded and Derek looked over to Stiles who simply smiled with a knowing sparkle in his eyes. He gently took the gift from her and started to unwrap it much like the other one, and revealed a small white coffee mug, resting it in his lap. He recognized it as the type that comes with a marker to draw designs on.

Charlie had made two crudely drawn stick figures, one with little, black curls and a taller one with wild spiky hair which made him chuckle. When he turned it over to look at the other side, Derek was sure his heart stopped. In red marker Charlie had written _#1 Daddy_ with a small, shakily drawn heart. 

Derek's mouth was slightly parted in awe and his eyes started to water. When he looked to his side at Stiles to see if this was actually happening, if it was real, he was met with a blurry silhouette. He gently put the mug on an empty space on the couch next to him and knelt down on the floor holding his arms out.

"C'mere baby girl," he whispered, voice unsteady. Derek crushed her to his chest, wrapping her in a tight hug. She wrapped her arms around his neck and Derek leaned his head against her shoulder. Charlie tangled her little fingers into the short hair at the back of Derek's neck.

"Love you, Daddy," Charlie murmured, and pulled back and bumped his forehead against hers. 

"I love you too kiddo."

•••

"I thought you had already given me your gift," Derek said curiously as Stiles dragged him up the stairs. 

"That one was a joint effort," Stiles smiled, turning to look back at him before opening the door. "This one is all me."

Derek's eyebrows went straight to his hairline. He couldn't imagine getting anything else ever again after the gift he got before. 

"Stiles," he began, sitting on the bed. "I don't know if I can accept anything else."

"Shush," Stiles tutted, closing the door before sitting down beside Derek. "Oh, wait!" 

He sprung up and dove into a drawer Derek didn't even know existed. Rifling through it, Stiles whipped something out with a triumphant "ha!". He scrambled back to the bed, shoving it into Derek's hands. There was no ribbon on it. It wasn't even wrapped; it was just a plain, unmarked CD case. Derek looked at Stiles expectantly. 

Stiles shrugged shyly and fiddled with his fingers, picking at his nail bed. 

"Well... uh... sometimes things are hard and I'm not always there to talk to you about it and pretty soon I won't be able to talk to you about anything, so I just wanted you to have something to listen to when you can't listen to me anymore."

His head was down the entire time, as if he was sure Derek would hate it and throw it in his face. Derek didn't say anything though, and Stiles had to look. 

"Thank you," he whispered after a few moments, giving Stiles a soft look. "Thank you so much." 

He got a bit choked up, but Derek didn't want to cry yet. He went to reach beneath the bed, but groaned softly. 

"Will you... reach under the bed? There's something there for you."

Nodding jerkily, Stiles fell to his knees and flailed his arms beneath the bed. 

"Gently," Derek chided with a small laugh. Stiles snorted, plopping back down. He decided to be extra obnoxious about it and jostled the bed. Derek just rolled his eyes. 

Excitedly, Stiles peeled back the metallic blue wrapping. Derek was glad that he didn't comment on the crude wrapping job. 

"Oh, my God," Stiles gasped when he saw what it was. "Is this...?"

"My journal?" Derek supplied with a smile. "Kind of."

Flipping through the pages, Stiles saw as Derek's flowing writing filled the pages, until it slowly blended into jerky letters, almost too hard to read. All of a sudden Derek's handwriting stopped, and Laura's began. 

Flipping to a random page, Stiles began to read. It was towards the end. 

Hey,

Writing is kind of hard, and my hand kind of really hurts, but we went to the mall with Charlie today, and I have to remind you of it...

Stiles covered his mouth with his hand to muffle a sob. 

"One day," Derek began, but stopped. "One day, I'm not going to be here to remind you of all the things we did together, or how I felt about it. This is... This is mainly for - for when I'm gone."

Stiles wept, and he had to move the book from his lap so the writing wouldn't get wet and harder to read. 

"Laura uh..." Derek's voice broke. "Laura helped me out towards the end. I was worried I wouldn't be able to write more, and you might not have found it after... you know, so I'm giving it to you now."

Launching himself at Derek, Stiles pushed him to the bed in a crushing hug. 

"I love you," he mumbled into Derek's neck. "God I love you so freaking much - do you - do you have any idea? I - shit -"

Derek cut him off before he talked himself raw. Lifting his chin, He stopped Stiles with a single kiss. 

"I love you, too."


	10. Make You Feel My Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait!! I'm prepping for college so I've been running around like a madman, but I hope you enjoy this chapter! 
> 
> Our boys get a little hot and heavy in this chapter, be gentle, writing sex isn't my forte.
> 
> Also, as usual, plenty of feels<3

Stiles had thought that even with no voice, he’d at least be able to make noise. But all he could really do was make a whisper of a sigh and a slight breath of a moan that couldn’t even be qualified as a moan, not really, just a heavy breath that only made noise when it was forced from his mouth.

Things were not easy, from then on. 

The thing was, that after the bandages were removed and the skin scabbed over, no one knew that he had no voice. It wasn’t that big of a deal, at first. Stiles was honestly more worried about what people would say about the scar that started under his left ear and wrapped around his neck until it came to an end just under his lip. But time passed and the bright pink of the mark faded into a milky white that almost blended with his skin, but not quite, and more pressing matters came. 

“Your change will be three forty-nine,” the cashier said, smiling at him as she held the ones and change out to him. He smiled, too, and nodded. He took his bags and turned, but not before he saw her displeased frown. He hadn’t said “thank you”. He paused for a moment, wondering whether or not he should sign it, but as he looked at his hands he realized he couldn’t. They were full. So he continued on out to his car and put the bags in the front seat, wondering if he could handle his voice being his hands. 

He drove away before he could really have an answer. 

•••

Derek's body hurt, not like that was anything new, but nonetheless it was almost constant. Recently the only comfort he found was either in sleep or when Stiles would work through the kinks in his muscles. Charlie walked on his back sometimes, but Stiles told him that she said she was afraid to hurt him.

He gave up on tying his shoes around a month ago. His fine motor skills were no where near where they were when he was diagnosed. Writing wasn't something he did much anymore either. He'd taken to doing vocal adaptations of his journal entries for Stiles. The laptop he'd received for Christmas had a program that changed the audio to text files so everything was a lot simpler for him.

A few days prior Charlie had come home with a flyer for the class Mother's Day party at her school. On the bottom there was a little handwritten note from her teacher, Ms. Bradbury. 

_Hi Derek!_  
I know little miss has a unique home setup so I just wanted to let you know you are most definitely included in our festivities. I highly doubt the other mothers would have any problem with it ;) only teasing of course! Hope to see you there.  
\- Charlie Bradbury 

Derek couldn't help but laugh at the teacher. She was fresh out of college and her personality came through strongly in everything she did. He had come to value her as a friend since the beginning of Charlie's school year, her and his daughter having a good relationship due to the fact that they share a name.

He suddenly felt a pang of guilt, with all that had occurred between his being sick, meeting Stiles, and everything after, he had let one of his only friendships fall to the background. There wasn’t much he could do about that now, but it would be good to see her. 

Charlie came padding into the room before Derek put the flyer away, which caught her attention. 

“Class party!” she said excitedly, bouncing on her toes. _Can Stiles come too, Daddy? Please?_ was signed quickly afterwards. As a collective family the Hales and the Stilinskis were really picking up on their ASL skills. It made Derek smile when he saw Laura frantically signing at Stiles, or when Stiles would mock sign at Peter just to annoy him. 

Looking at his daughter he saw the hope in her eyes. He knew that Stiles, in Charlie's world, was right up there with himself. Between Derek, Stiles, and Charlie they had developed a quite a few little slang signs which were quickly added into their vocabulary. So with a quick flick of the wrist she saw _sure kiddo._

“Yes!” she squealed, doing a little dance that Derek guessed was some kind of “happy dance”. Stiles taught her the strangest things. She ran off, Derek guessed, to tell everyone willing to listen. 

Stiles came in just as she was running out, and his eyes followed her out the door. 

_What’s she so excited about?_ he asked, curiously peering at Derek. Charlie wasn’t one to become too excitable. 

Derek laughed, and signed, _How do you feel about going to a Mother’s Day event at Charlie’s school?_

Stiles smiled and signed something that could only be accurately translated to a “Hell yeah!”. He and Charlie have become closer since Christmas, and he thinks it had something to do with him encouraging her to call Derek “Daddy”. Whatever the reason, he was happy, extremely so. _When is it?_

"Friday, so we have a whopping two days to prepare ourselves for around 25 moms and grandmas."

Stiles made a face of mock horror. 

_Why, whatever will we do?_ He signed, and opened his mouth in a fake scream. Derek laughed heartily, and patted Stiles empathetically on the back. 

“Well, my love, it seems we’ll have to suffer for the joy of our child.” 

•••

Stiles felt a kiss on his neck. Derek had been doing that a lot lately, kissing his scar. He wasn't really sure why. It wasn't like it was beautiful or unique it was ragged and sharp, no matter how faded. No one could even really see it anymore, unless the light was right, but everyone seemed to _know_ in that way people do when theres something wrong with you. 

“You ready for today?” Derek whispered, shifting slightly. Stiles smiled and freed his arms from the covers. His smile turned mischievous, and he began to sign. 

_The time has come, the walrus said, to talk of many things. Of ships, of shoes, of sealing wax, of cabbages and kings, of why the sea is boiling hot and whether pigs have win--_

“Stop,” Derek playfully groaned, putting his hand over Stiles’ moving ones, using his other to go in for the attack, tickling him joyfully. Stiles laughed in the breathy way he always did now, like a quiet huff, or the way people breathe out with no noise when they laugh a little too hard. Derek’s movements were jerky, but he took no less joy from it, and he was glad there were at least a few normal things left that they could do. 

The tickling slowed and Stiles watched Derek throw his weight over his body, straddling him. He was breathing hard and his smile was making his cheeks hurt. 

They stared at each other for a moment, breathing heavily, until Derek leaned down and kissed him hard. Stiles was almost surprised with how forceful it was, considering how stiff Derek must feel so early in the morning. It felt good, the way their mouths fit together and the way their hands slid across each other’s bodies. 

Stiles liked the way Derek took control, sliding his hands down Stiles' sides, feeling the warm skin underneath his fingertips. He felt Derek's palms hot on his back, and if he could, he'd tell him how good it felt. He settled for biting at his neck, making his way down the other man's throat until he reached the juncture where his shoulder and neck met. 

It wasn't like things hadn't gotten hot and heavy before, but it was safe to say that Derek was more than a little turned on by the feeling of Stiles nipping at his skin.

While he was busy sucking a deep mark into Derek’s neck Stiles took the chance to flip them over. He moved down along the fit line of Derek’s body, running his tongue along Derek’s collarbone. Stiles kissed down his chest and felt light hair against his lips, listening to Derek moan as he lightly bit down on his nipple. Being able to please Derek like this made him happy. He loved feeling and hearing Derek respond to pleasure. 

When Stiles reached Derek’s waistband he stopped to watch Derek's hips writhe, pressing a cheeky kiss to the covered head of his cock, and adjusted his own dick in his boxers, stroking it through the thin fabric. He hooked his thumbs over the elastic, sliding his boxers off, and tossed them to the floor. Sitting back on his heels, Stiles watched Derek grind into the air, his cock creating a wet patch on his grey briefs.

Stiles couldn’t help himself when he ducked down and sucked at the head through the fabric. He trailed the tip of his tongue up the outline of the shaft till he reached the thick band of Derek's underwear, listening to him pant and whine.

He snapped the band against Derek's skin, teasing, before he tugged them down and off. He started at his knee, kissing and licking up to Derek's inner thigh before switching to the other leg. 

In one fluid movement - it was incredibly graceful considering the person doing it - he pulled Derek's boxers down and off. It was most definitely one thing feeling it and another seeing it, because all of a sudden Stiles felt a little timid. It only lasted a few moments before Derek shifted and moaned and Stiles decided he wanted to hear that noise again. 

Inching forward, he bent his head and ran the flat of his tongue up Derek's cock, from base to tip. When he took the head into his mouth, sucking and licking at the sensitive underside, and Derek bucked his hips off the bed. He was panting steadily, the feeling of Stiles' mouth on his aching cock almost too much. 

He placed a hand on the back of Stiles' head feeling the peach fuzz underneath his palm, and added a little pressure silently asking for more. Stiles hummed, vibrations running through Derek's body, before taking the rest of Derek's length in his mouth. He was buried in Derek's scent and placed one of Derek's hands on his throat to feel Stiles swallow around him.

Stiles used the same hand to reach down and stroke his own cock, precum leaking from his head, before abandoning it to dance his fingers up Derek's thigh. Stiles knew he was close, that Derek only need a small push to fall over the edge.

He brushed his hand higher and higher then around to Derek's ass, and placed a fingertip of pressure against his hole.

"Stiles!" Derek gasped biting off into a moan as he reached his climax, body shivering. 

Stiles pulled off, a bit of cum resting at the corner of his mouth, and Derek pulled him up into a searing kiss nearly going insane with the taste of himself on Stiles' lips. 

Derek rolled them over, not breaking the kiss, and wrapped a strong hand around Stiles' dick. He watched as his boyfriend's mouth dropped open and his eyes slipped shut in ecstasy.

He kissed down Stiles' neck, skirting over his collarbone and down to his chest. Derek closed his lips over one of Stiles' nipples and reveled in the feel of Stiles slipping his hand into his hair, tugging at the dark strands. 

When Derek reached up to pinch and roll Stiles' other nipple between his fingers Stiles bucked up into Derek's fist, biting his lip at the friction. 

Stiles created a steady pace, fucking into the tight heat of Derek's hand. Derek began to move his hand opposite Stiles' thrust and watched as Stiles came undone, body going slack.

Giving Stiles one last nip he pulled away from his chest to suck Stiles' cum from his fingers, moaning at the taste. He stood on shaking legs and pulled his boyfriend to his feet before dragging them to his bathroom. 

"C'mon babe, we're gonna be so late."

•••

Charlie ran up to them with a huge smile on her face, wrapping her arms around their legs. Shockingly, they weren't too late, the other mothers just settling in near their kids.

The little girl dragged them over to her desk where there were two chairs seated next to it. Derek looked around catching Ms. Bradbury at her desk, shooting her a wink and getting a fond smile in return. He turned to place a kiss at Stiles' temple before taking his seat.

"So instead of watching a movie and having tea time like we usually do on Mother's Day the class actually wanted to try something new," Ms. Bradbury said with a smile. 

"Each student has expressed how much they love their moms," then it was her turn to send a wink at Charlie who blushed and giggled. "So we decided that we would all share a little bit about one of the most important people in our lives."

Derek and Stiles watched on and listened to each child talk about how their moms could do anything, that their mom was their hero. They laughed when Tommy said he loves that his mom puts a cookie in his lunch box once a week, and had heart eyes when Elizabeth said her Mom was her best friend.

Eventually, it was Charlie’s turn, and she wouldn’t say, but she was a little nervous. She’s not shy, but there was just something intimidating about sitting in front of the entire class and all of their moms. 

Sitting on the edge of her seat, she crossed her little ankles and watched as Ms. Bradbury pulled up an extra chair. Stiles and Derek smiled as they sat beside her, encouraging her to begin. Looking out to her friends, Charlie cleared her throat. 

“I don’t have a mommy,” she began, clearing her throat softly. “But, I think my Daddy and ‘Tiles are better than any mommy I could ever have.” 

A little hand popped up in the back, waving furiously at the elbow. 

“Yes, Adam?” Ms. Bradbury enquired curiously, and everyone turned their attention to a little blonde boy wiggling on the floor between his mother’s knees.

“So you have two daddies? But you call one Tiles? Why is he wearing a hat - Ms. B, you said hats weren’t allowed in class!” 

All the mothers in the room collectively winced, and poor little Adam’s mother tried in vain to stop the boy’s onslaught of questions. Both Stiles and Derek tensed, unsure of how to answer all of his questions, but Charlie remained unphased. 

“'Tiles is my daddy’s boys-friend, but he’s my best friend too and takes care of me just like Daddy does - we used to be able to talk together but ‘Tiles is sick, kinda like Daddy, and can’t talk anymore. It’s okay though ‘cause we can talk with our hands now, and no one knows what we’re saying except ‘Tiles, Daddy, and ‘Tiles’ daddy! ‘T’s a special way to co-cuh” she cut herself off mid rant, looking to Derek. 

“Communicate, baby,” he supplied, smiling at her fondly. 

“Yeah! Communi-ate!” 

The adults in the class chuckled at her slightly botched pronunciation, but it was in good spirit. 

"My 'Tiles takes real good care of my daddy. So yeah," she said looking at the ground, "my daddies are the best."

Stiles clapped a hand over his mouth and looked at Derek with a wide, watery gaze. Derek watched as Stiles' eyes crinkled from what he could only assume was a giant smile blocked by his hand. Stiles dropped to his knees and put out his arms, signing a quick _come here_ to Charlie and clutching her to his chest. 

Derek looked over at the teacher and silently asked if she signed, getting an affirmative answer. Feeling the emotions swelling in the room from the other moms he signed, _she's never called him a dad before._


	11. Forget Me Not

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A bit of a time jump ahead of us. It doesn't mean great things, but there is still love and devotion to be seen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IM SO SORRY FOR THE WAIT. I don't want anyone to think this work is abandoned. For a long time this story wasn't giving me anything to work with. Between that and real life this chapter is a long time coming! Hopefully the next installment will come around much sooner.
> 
> Thank you all for sticking with me on this journey.  
> Comments = much motivation and extra hugs for Stiles and Derek <3

Two years down the road saw Stiles with a job as a clerk at the Sheriff's station with his dad. It was easy, dropping case files on the desks of those he's known all his life, reorganizing the data system and the old archives. Talking wasn't an issue because, well, because the job didn't call for it. 

He was currently crouched over the bottom drawer of a filing cabinet, running a hand through his hair. His most recent project had him moving case files and hard evidence onto a electronic archive. Stiles was getting very friendly with the office scanner to say the least.

Danny Mahealani poked his head into the back room, Stiles hadn't been surprised when he heard Danny had gotten a job heading the cyber crime department. It wasn't often that he saw Danny without a smile on his face so his hesitant look caught his attention immediately, nerves pouring through his veins.

"Hey Stiles," he said with a quirk of his lip, "I think your dad needs you, sounded important."

He followed Danny out of the back room and they headed towards the sheriff's office. Stiles clapped on his shoulder in gratitude before letting himself in.

_Hey Dad,_ Stiles signed with one hand, the other rubbing the back of his head, _Danny said you needed me?_

Stiles' father gave him a look he hadn't seen in a long time and somehow he got even more tense. It was the look he got before his dad told him his mom's final prognosis, when they had the official statement that there was nothing more to be done. It was a look of heartbreak.

"It's Derek."

The tone of voice the sheriff's voice was all it took for Stiles to clench his eyes shut and gently place a hand over his mouth. He bit hard at his bottom lip. 

"Talia called. She says Derek had another episode of seizures. It didn't sound very good. He wants to see you."

Stiles nodded quickly, and turned away. Before he could clear the door his dad stepped around his desk and grabbed him from behind. His father's arms wrapped around him in a bear hug, crossing up at his chest. 

"He just needs you right now, son," he gentled, holding Stiles close. "If he can still need you, he's still here. That's what matters."

Stiles' eyes clouded over. His dad was right, he always was. If anyone were to understand the way Stiles was feeling, it would be him. He turned his head and nudged his forehead into his father's cheek in acknowledgment. That was all it took for him to let Stiles go.

There was no need to collect anything from his office. He had his phone and the keys to his car, there was nothing else he could think of that really mattered. 

Stiles had always had trouble wrapping his mind around the reality that he lived in. It wasn’t that he couldn’t comprehend it; he just could never see it _happening_ to anyone else. He imagined fatal changes every night. None of them were pretty. He could see it while Charlie was in school, while they were all together, when they were all apart. Every bad moment imagined felt like a nightmare that he desperately wanted to wake up from. He was cognizant of his reality and to a certain extent he even accepted it. Even through all of that, as he laid in bed beside Derek, or at his side in the hospital, his mind provided him with a weak plea. _This can’t be happening_. 

He wanted to go to sleep and have it be two years ago. He wished there was a way to go back to when everything was just starting out, him and Derek and Charlie, when everything seemed so far away. 

This was Derek’s third set of seizures this month. 

With each emergency and each task Derek could no longer accomplish, it was only natural for Stiles to wonder how much longer they would have together.

He barely even remembered driving to the hospital, noticing so as he walked down the hall to a room that was becoming familiar. Knocking as he entered, he saw Derek propped up in the bed smiling when he looked over. 

Derek waved a hand, beckoning Stiles to come sit at the side of the bed. 

"Hey," Derek breathed, "I'm glad you're here. Y'know, seizures really suck when you don't have someone to play with your hair and whisper sweet nothings into your ear."

His statement was accompanied by a cheeky grin, and that's all it took for Stiles to lean in a press a hard kiss to Derek's lips. It seemed as if there was no other way to tell him how relieved he was that he was okay.

When Stiles finally pulled away, Derek smiled. Reaching out, Derek pat Stiles gently on the hand that was resting on his bare knee. 

“These gowns really put a damper on these stellar hospital experiences,” Derek joked softly, the joke sounding weak even to his own ears. Stiles gave a hollow laugh, the sound echoing across the room as silence filled the empty space between them.

_Did they tell you how long after this one? I mean, you're still walking, you just don't have the fine motor skills anymore. You'll be fine for a long time right?_

Stiles had quickly accepted that he wouldn't get to grow old with Derek, that wasn't the issue. The problem was that Stiles did see these things. He saw that Derek would be leaving him so much earlier than he should be, that his health was continuing to decline at an increasing rate. What killed Stiles was that he had to watch Huntington's kill Derek.

"Last time they said two years, this time they said one to three. I can't say that's better or worse, but three sounds nicer than two."

Derek paused, reflecting on his own timeline. It was hard to imagine, but something that he had found a decent sort of comfort in. He had always preferred concrete numbers to malleable prognoses.

Three years sounded like a lot. It sounded like a lot and yet not nearly enough when he thought of his daughter. She had grown so much over only two years that he couldn't imagine what it would be like to see her in three. She was still so young. 

That was no excuse for keeping the truth from her any longer. If Derek was going to continue to decline at this rate, he'd rather Charlie know the full story and not quite understand. It was better than her not knowing anything and being scared of these changes.

"We have to tell Charlie," he decided, leaving no room for argument. 

They sat there for a moment, dread filling their stomachs. They never wanted to hide the truth of the matter from her for so long. She was so adaptable. Kids were amazing like that. What would end up hurting them in return is that she would take it in stride. She would take it and she would pat their hands and tell them that she's sure everything will be okay. She would act as if they were the only ones in need of comfort and reassurance. It was like she took every emotion she was feeling and understood that everyone else was probably feeling it too. She just wanted to fix those feelings. She was so much like Derek that it almost hurt. 

_We can do it,_ he signed with shaky hands. _We've done it before._

•••

Stiles drove Derek home after he was discharged, and helped him up the stairs to his room. 

_I'm gonna go make some lunch. I'll come back up with some for you when I'm done._

Stiles left Derek on the bed with a kiss and when he closed the door behind him Derek grabbed his laptop and turned it on. The voice controls were perfect. Derek couldn't really imagine typing anymore with how badly his hands shook.

"Select action," he said, "open program: Video Capture Software."

Derek started recording short clips of himself about a year ago. Whenever he was sure he had a bit of alone time he would take the chance to tell a story, or just talk about how he was feeling. He just wanted everyone to know him has he was, and not as just some memory. With his dad having been gone so long, it was hard for Derek to remember much about him and the idea of that happening to Charlie was terrifying.

"Start Capture."

"So we're in May now and it's been a long week, but I told you that yesterday. Charlie is getting so big I can hardly imagine what she looks like now, I'm sure she's beautiful and outgoing just like her papa. Things seem like they won't be getting better anytime soon, but I hope you're all okay. Lean on each other. Cry if you have to. If anyone tells you that I wouldn't want you to be sad, ignore them. I want you to feel however you want, just remember that I love you. Know that I love you," Derek paused and took a deep breath, "and I miss you, and I can't wait to see you again."

"End capture."

 

•••

Derek can safely say he isn’t much of a people person. Or a loud noise person. Maybe he’s more of a sit and quietly read a book person, or a small gathering kind of person. So when Stiles suggested a fourth of July barbeque, Derek told him to keep it relatively small. 

He should have known Stiles wouldn’t listen. 

“Stiles!” He groaned, glaring his stupidly charming boyfriend. “When I said ‘relatively small,’ I didn't mean half the town!”

Stiles smiled impishly, gracefully accepting another home baked dessert from a guest at the door. Turning, he walked through the house to the kitchen, Derek following sulkily behind. Placing the what looked like rhubarb and strawberry pie on the table, he turned to Derek. 

_If I had invited half the town, we’d need more food ._ he signed, huffing a little. _Besides, these are just all of our friends. People who have helped us when we needed it. And a few neighbors._

Sighing, Derek picked up a plate of macaroni salad. He knew that all the people here were his friends, but he’d just never realized just how many they had until half of Charlie’s class and their parents were there alongside the entire police force and fire department, and a third of the hospital staff. 

_If you need a little time to decompress, just know that I made the entire upstairs off-limits. We got a stairlift for a reason, Derek. Use it. Take a few minutes to yourself. Everyone will still be here when you come back. Don’t feel like you need to socialize every second to make everyone happy._

Taking the plate of food from Derek’s stiff hands, he turned, giving him a quick peck on the cheek before going out the back door to the rest of their guests. 

Derek took a deep breath and decided to take Stiles’ advice. After all, the man was rarely wrong. Trudging his way towards the staircase, he looked back over his shoulder and smiled. 

Through the glass doors, Derek could see Stiles gathering all of Charlie’s friends around. He was teaching them how to sign “I love you.”

By the time he got upstairs, he was breathing a little heavy. The stairlift always gave him an opportunity for defiance. Derek knew he could make it to the top of the stairs if he took his time and let himself breathe, so when no one was looking that's exactly what he did. Falling back into his desk chair, he turned to his computer. He debated for a second before smiling.

“Select action, open program: Video Capture Software.”

The computer whirred a little, and Derek sat back and let the laptop do its thing. When the little camera light came on, he sat up a little straighter.

“So it’s July now, and I’m sitting upstairs ‘decompressing’ as you likes to call it. Stiles, you just had to go and invite half the town for the fourth. I never realized how many friends we had and how many people I know. It’s funny because you both are such social butterflies. Every day I realize just how similar the both of you are. I'll never know how it happened but the both of you pour your milk before the cereal and if that doesn't say it all.” Blinking, Derek leaned forward, as if maybe if he got closer to the screen he could peer into the future faces looking at it. “I don’t know when you guys will watch this one. I wish I knew what you looked like. Charlie, if Stiles _ever_ tries to grow a beard, don’t let him. He’s tried and failed before. I looked better with one anyway” 

Derek threw in a wink and a hearty laugh as he pictured Stiles, grown older with a perpetually patchy beard. He heard a crash in the distance followed by John letting out an exasperated _”Stiles!”_

“I think you just broke something,” he chuckled, scratching at the back of his neck. “So maybe it’s time for me to go back downstairs before you break anything else. Charlie, always remember that Daddy loves you. And remember that your papa loves you, too. As you get older, he’ll feel like a pain in the butt. Trust me, all parents do. But just remember that we both love you so much. Stiles, take care of yourself and Charlie. I love you. I love you both, I miss you, and I can't wait to see you again."

“End capture.”

•••••

Before Stiles and Charlie dragged him out of the house to trick-or-treat, Derek grabbed the laptop to record another message. 

“Select action, open program: Video Capture Software. Start capture.”

“So I’m dressed up as Jake Sully, fake tribal tattoo and all, because Charlie just watched Avatar for the first time and when she saw him she said she liked him because he was in a wheelchair just like me. It’s been hard for us all to transition into an accessible home. I even use the stairlift everyday now. Everyone works so hard to help me out so if I’ve never said it,” he stopped, taking a breath, “thank you.”

“You and Charlie are dressed to the nines, Big Bad Wolf and my Little Red. You’re both so beautiful a-”

Derek stopped when Stiles came bursting into the room with big furry ears on his head, signing like crazy about how _now was the time to depart_. He peered over Derek’s shoulder and Derek could read his questioning gaze looking at him in the screen.

“It’s nothing,” Derek murmured, turning his head to nuzzle into Stiles’ chest. He looked up at him from where he was sitting and asked for a kiss, knowing that the video was still running. 

Stiles came around to the front of him, his back blocking half of the camera’s view. Derek let the kiss come to him, and a pang of loss hit him. Things were ending. Not just for him, but for everyone. Every kiss felt like they were bracing for a goodbye they might never get. Pulling Stiles close, he let his eyes meet the camera. 

“Go, I’ll be right behind you,” Derek murmured into his shoulder, pressing a kiss to the soft costume material. “I just have to grab one more thing.”

“I’ve done so many of these that I couldn’t let this one end any differently,” he whispered. “I love you both, I miss you, and I can’t wait to see you again.”

Things weren’t over quite yet. 

•••••

Derek was getting worse. It was a wonder, honestly, how Stiles had thought that maybe things would start looking up. One hospital visit every few weeks turned to two to three to four until eventually they were spending more time in the hospital than out. If Stiles had to talk to one more doctor about what to do “after,” he might just scream. No. Scratch that. He’ll scream right now. He opened his mouth and -

“What are you doing?” 

Stiles jumped and turned to see Laura. She was holding a cup of coffee and a rolled up edition of Vogue, and Stiles realized that somewhere along the way she had taken off her heels. She was left barefoot on the cool linoleum of the hospital's cafeteria floor. Stiles wondered how the hell she wasn’t getting yelled at every five minutes by the hospital staff for safety violations. 

_Well,_ he began, pushing his thoughts aside, _I was going to start screaming, but a few key factors got in the way._

“Yeah?” She quirked an eyebrow. “The interruption thing or the no voice thing?” 

Stilled scoffed and made a faux hurt face. 

_“Ouch. Sadness makes you mean.”_

“Sadness?” She smiled coyly. “Oh, baby, mean is just me.” 

Stiles smiled for a moment, but it fell. The banter was always fun while it lasted, but even Charlie knew that nothing was quite real anymore. Every smile carefully kept, every touch just a tad too tight, everything had an air of force to it that always made Stiles feel like he was choking. 

There was no point in dwelling on dark thoughts when Stiles had spent plenty of sleepless nights lying in Derek’s arms thinking of the inevitable. He looked to Laura, the silence resting too long to miss the change in his mood. 

Laura slowly closed the few steps between them, wrapping one arm around Stiles’ back and the other tucking his head down to rest on her shoulder.

She pressed a warm kiss to his temple, “You've fought so many battles looking at the future. It's time to just start living where we are.”

**Author's Note:**

> Chapter title is the song [This Temporary Life](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xccNss0YGzI) by Death Cab for Cutie


End file.
